A Thin Veneer supplements
by AlbertG
Summary: Part of A Thin Veneer story series the first generation. We present the background stories that we haven't presented in ATV. These series of stories will detail back plots not addressed in the main story. Please enjoy.
1. Chapter 1

Title: A THIN VENEER -Supplemental

Authors: ** Lightning Count, Kclcmdr (the Librarian) , RenS, and AlbertG: more to be added **

**Editing and comments by Ed Becerra Ash's Boomstick: **

Contact: and PG- 13

Summary: Background stories directly related to 'A Thin Veneer'.

NOTICE: THIS STORY MAY BE DISTRIBUTED FREE OF CHARGE BUT MUST NOT BE SOLD OR EXCHANGED FOR FINANCIAL RETURN IN ANY FORM.

---------------------COPYRIGHT/DISCLAIMER NOTICE-----------

The full disclaimer will be located at the end of this story. However, be it known that we own nothing and expect to get nothing because the rights are owned by others. Only certain characters and technologies are ours and these are the creations of the authors who is solely responsible for them as such. Neither Studio is responsible for the content of this story.

THIS STATEMENT MUST ACCOMPANY THE STORY 'A THIN VENEER' IF DISTRIBUTED. THIS STORY IS FREE OF CHARGE AND MAY NOT BE SOLD OR EXCHANGED FOR FINANCIAL RETURN IN ANY FORM. THIS DEDICATION MUST ACCOMPANY ANY DISTRUBUTION OF THIS STORY.

Introduction: _As you readers may know, ATV has grown from a small story (dreamed up by Col Crackpots 'Kirk Starkiller'), into a massive story with a few dozen side plots. What many of you may not know is that on that 'other website' the discussions, pictures, history, technical data, etc about ATV have been extremely hot and heavy. It has over 18,500 comments and over a million two hundred thousand views. It's been so heavy in fact that I found myself fighting to keep up with all of the data. Therefore it was suggested by myself and others that we ask for a few authors to submit a few side stories directly related to ATV but not part of the main story line to make sure that these secondary issues didn't get lost since I couldn't get to them without really adding to ATV which is already massive enough._

_We will not even discuss ATV-2 most likely coming up in December –January of 2007. People are already speculating and planning for that generation of story. Whether its 10 years down the road or the 'next generation', we have 'the bible' set up for it and it's being added to all of the time. Some of the new vessels designs and plotlines are interesting to say the least._

_Meanwhile and surprisingly, several authors answered the call. There were a few rules that had to be observed. No Mary Sue stories as they have to be directly related to the main ATV plotline. New characters could be added but these were short-ranged characters created to enhance the story not take it over. They were to remember that ATV was about the characters and the dangers to our 'civilized' attitudes first as opposed to the war itself. If the writer was unable to fully express himself, or herself through writing, it wasn't a problem. We would edit and configure the story because as you know-writing is hard and time consuming. And lastly; if you started, then finish it._

_Those were (and are) the rules. So far several writers came to the fore. Some you know by their stories here on ff and some are new. We hope that you will enjoy. Now I do not know when we will update these stories but I will keep you abreast in ATV._

_I did make one miscalculation in ATV and to a lesser extent the 'A universe of Change' series concerning the Minbari. First, I have been on their case quite heavily during the ATV war and for that I will make no apologies. They were dogs in their reasoning and handling of the Earth Minbari war. My mistake is that I should have balanced some of the more moderate characters so that we could get more sides of the Minbari people (not just the military and politicians) and their thoughts. That will be presented here in the supplement. But apparently, I have contaminated a lot of other writers and their stories with my Minbari attitude and for that I do half-apologize. At the same time, I've always believed that Earth Alliance was full of it and that reflects strongly in all of my stories including my little stint in 'Consequences of Actions-part 2'. The bottom line is that everyone (including the Feds) has its faults and I can't gloss over them._

_The Vorlons-ah, the Vorlons. For such an advanced species, they have not shown much for their age…which is interesting. I do pick on them because they were supposed to be better than the Shadows-and they weren't. The Shadows were supremely dangerous and predatory but at least you knew where you stood with them. And they were more flexible (not trustworthy-not friendly; but you had a better chance of coming to an agreement with them as opposed to the Vorlons. So the agreement by the Alpha-beta quadrant allies was to keep them off the Feds back and keep them from making me write even more. Besides it allowed me to show another side of the elders which included the Metrons and Medusans and how they would affect that little circle everyone is so concerned about maintaining._

**Part one:**

**Warp Superhighway**

**Day Seven**

Dr. Khali was walking back to his assigned VIP room aboard the _USS Concordat_. For the past fifteen days, he had studying Federation culture and history in the starship's library database. Grudgingly, he was somewhat enjoying the trip. The spaciousness of his quarters, the whole ship in general was depressingly pleasant. _EarthForce One_ was considered luxurious when traveling through to the stars. But Earth Alliance's finest might as well have been a horse and buggy compared to this. And he didn't like it one bit.

The library was just as nice but that wasn't of interests to him. He needed to cross-reference the information with what he had on hand from the database on _Becerra Alpha One_ and from the reports given by General Lefcourt and Captain Sheridan, but he couldn't concentrate on his work. He had other interests such as using his time on the _Concorda_t to observe the interspecies interaction in the starship crew.

Khali shuddered inwardly at the memory of the insane Minbari kamikaze assault on _Becerra Alpha_. It was fortunate that the Federation was technologically advanced enough to resist the assault as successfully as it had. The confusion and anger at the apparent betrayal of Branmer's own ultimatum had followed even as they were all convinced of Minbari insanity.

After the attack, Captain Sheridan had commented, "The Minbari believe in keeping their word of honor. For them to set forth an ultimatum of forty-eight hours and then break it…. That's not their MO. It's strange."

Khali dismissed the comment. It was only another symptom of the madness that the Minbari race seemed to be suffering. But now he wondered as his professionalism subconsciously tackled the problem.

Two men were walking down the corridor past Khali, conversing quietly. One was Vulcan and the other Deltan. Their species were only part of the amazing diversity of the starship crew. He'd seen Andorians, Caitians, Saurians, Tellarites, Betelgeusians, Zaranites, Ithenites and Tiburonians working together effortlessly. Some were odd, not just physically, but also psychologically.

The Vulcans, for example, was an entire race that appeared to be suffering from Asperger Syndrome. The symptoms were similar: limited interests or preoccupation with subjects not under their purview; repetitive behavior or rituals such as eyebrow-raising and that odd hand greeting. Peculiarities in speech and language including being pedantic and literal, advanced intelligence and an unnatural thirst for the most trivial of information, and a form of social behavior that might be labeled mildly autistic in humans as in the case where the Vulcans seemed to have an aversion to physical contact.

And the Deltans-

Deltans, including the man who had just passed Khali in the corridor with the Vulcan, smelled of sex. Normally, it would be exhilarating for Dr. Khali, but it was distracting. He couldn't see how the Deltans managed to go out in space in spite of their sexual addiction. To make matters more difficult, Deltans simply looked like humans who had closely shaved their heads. It was hard to believe that this was a typical example for Starfleet personnel. Then again he reasoned that only the best crews would be used to escort the delegation to the Federation.

How did they do it? Such different and distracting personal peculiarities. Oh, the Deltans had their Oath of Celibacy and the Vulcans had their exaggerated politeness. Still, it had to be distracting.

The closest example of interspecies cooperation that Khali could think of was what happened in the Dilgar War. The League races and humans had worked together to stop the Dilgar threat. Even then, the races stayed on their respective ships. They never mixed crews. He doubted that the alliance would have lasted if that happened. He could imagine a Drazi getting angry with a Llort co-worker and beating him up for trying to collect too many things.

Khali was sure that his future thesis would benefit from direct observation of the Federation. Any book he would write on the subject would have to be a bestseller back home. Too bad Senator Clark died. An input from the late Senator would add dimensions to his thesis.

What about the two Earths? In his readings and conversations, Khali was amazed to learn that there were more Earths in the Alpha Quadrant. Especially disturbing were the worlds of Juram V and Omega IV. They were perfect cases of what would happen had the Cold War gone another way.

The Federation already had a theory for that: Hodgkin's Law of Parallel Development. He planned to study more of the works of Dr. A. E. Hodgkin once he reached the Federation Earth. It seemed that just as the Galapagos Islands gave the crucial clues to Charles Darwin, the termites of Loracus Prime were the inspiration for Hodgkin's theory. Perhaps Khali would formulate a theory that was as revolutionary as that of Darwin and Hodgkin.

Khali's Law of Parallel Earths. Khali's Law of Xeno-political Evolution. He smiled. Those sounded good. He'd also heard of an ancient advanced alien race called the Preservers being responsible for the Earths. It was only natural that Humanity should attract the recognition of such higher beings.

But which Earth was the original?

It had to be his Earth. Otherwise, the incredibly detailed fossil record would have to be impossibly fabricated by the Preservers. He chuckled. He could imagine such a theory giving steam to those Young-Earth nuts.

His reputation was on the line, Khali was sure. Otherwise, those other professors at Harvard would laugh at him. How university professors love to grind their feet on each other's necks as they climb the academic ladder!

He knew that even as they praised his selection to be part of the delegation, they would turn around and mouth off about him. It was only natural in academic politics.

His thesis on Federation lore would only add to his prestige at Harvard.

**Federation Fleet**

**Minbari territory**

"We picked this ship up fourteen minutes ago," the young tactical Officer reported as he led the two senior Officers urgently through the corridors of USS _Lincoln_. If he was somewhat awed by the mighty company he found himself in, the Officer offered no indication. "Minbari in origin."

His two associates, the nearest thing to living legends Starfleet could boast shared a look.

"Fascinating." Spock said.

"You know, I was just about to say that," Kirk replied.

"Is the vessel on a diplomatic mission?" Spock turned the question on their guide.

"In a manner of speaking, sir." He led them into a security station, showing his pass to the duty Officer at the entrance. "The vessel communicated with us and asked for permission to dock, after a thorough scan we found no bombs or traps so we allowed it and brought the occupant here."

"Just one?" asked Kirk.

"Yes sir," the Officer said. "You better take a look."

He brought up the display on a nearby panel, an image of a female sat silently on a bed in the USS _Hanoi's_ primary brig. Kirk had never seen her before. The female alien was an entirely different species from what he'd seen in this sector of space.

"Not Minbari."

"No, Admiral," the Officer answered.

Intriguing," stated Spock. "The Minbari do not share their technology, indeed they are irrational in how jealously they guard their secrets. It is unlikely they would have allowed an alien to purchase one of their vessels, even a small one."

"And I doubt she stole it," Kirk mused. "No one local has the tools to try that. We better talk to her. Maybe she can tell us something about the Minbari."

"Sirs, before you do," The Officer spoke. "There is some additional information. Her species matches nothing we have encountered so we ran it through Earth Alliance records."

"You got something?"

"We got a lot sir, not just a species match, but an individual match."

"So we got a celebrity?" Kirk asked.

"In a way, yes sir." The Officer handed over the information. "She's a Dilgar."

"Never heard of them," Kirk said.

"An extinct race," Spock recited. "Their star went Nova in 2235, shortly after they were defeated in a long war thanks to the involvement of Earth Alliance."

Kirk gave him a sideways look. "When did you find time to read that?"

"If something is important, you make the time."

Kirk grinned, remembering the origin of that quote. "And our guest? I guess they weren't all extinct."

"That is Warmaster Jha'dur," the Officer remarked.

"Go on Spock, I know you want to," Kirk grinned.

"I have no ego Admiral, as you know. My wish to share knowledge is for the benefit of all, not merely my own gratification," Spock answered plainly. "Warmaster Jha'dur was arguably the worst of her race and the greatest war criminal on record. Her crimes rivals even the most infamous criminals known in our own Federation archives. The true scale is unknown but Earth Alliance sources hold her responsible for over ten billion deaths."

That took Kirk a little by surprise. He'd met a lot of villains in his time, tyrants and murderers alongside beings callous and cruel, but this female threatened to take the top place.

"Why?" he asked. "Casualties of war?"

"Not all," Spock answered. "Many were killed for scientific experimentation, others apparently as simple entertainment. She infected the planet of Latig IV with a plague simply to see how long it took for them to die."

Kirk's levity vanished faster than ship going to high warp. He had been more interested in how she had gained Minbari technology, but now his mind was filled with darker thoughts.

"She is the most wanted individual in this sector of space," Spock concluded. "Both Earth Alliance and the League have warrants for her immediate arrest, but have never found her."

"I think I know why," Kirk answered as his mind pieced together the puzzle. How far are from the _Hanoi_.

"Two days."

"Inform _Enterprise_ that we will divert and rendezvous with the _Hanoi_ in two days," he ordered. "The rest of the fleet is to continue on their mission. We'll go talk to her and see what all this is about."

**Warp Superhighway**

**Day Nine**

"I need a chance to observe incognito, Captain."

"Incognito," echoed Captain T'Lara with an arched eyebrow.

Dr. Khali took a deep breath. "Incognito. As you may be aware, there is a psychological effect in being observed by someone who's recognized as an outsider. I'm sure you've observed it yourself, Captain. Whenever you enter a room, your crewmembers worked just a bit harder to impress you."

Impassively, T'Lara replied to the request. "I have indeed observed such behavior among a few of the Officers. However, it is irrelevant. My only concern is that my crew performs its duty ably enough. I would hardly ascribe to the label 'outsider' as applied to myself, Doctor."

Flashing a brilliant smile, Khali said, "there you go! To make observations unaffected by such a psychological aspect, I need to borrow a uniform. You don't have to give me any rank. Just being a warrant Officer would be enough. It's only temporary, Captain. There won't be any break in your chain of command, I assure you."

"Indeed." The tone in the captain's response suggested that she wouldn't brook any such break.

"I'll be just a fly on the wall."

T'Lara opened her mouth to comment on the illogic of such a performance when the starship went into Red Alert. The Vulcan captain whipped her head around to look at the main viewer.

In the middle of the conduit, there was something that appeared to be an asteroid. Then it grew to the size of a moon. Khali realized that the transformation was due to the high speed at which the ship and object were heading toward each other. He gripped a rail and looked to the captain with wide eyes.

"Blue Alert," the Vulcan calmly ordered. "Shields up. Rear and front view in split screen. Inform the _Achilles_ and the _Guam_ to not take any evasive action."

As if they could. Inside the transit way there was no way the ships could turn, accelerate or decelerate or effectively use their weapons. They were in a state of non-existence and would remain that way until they exited the Courtor-Terra passage as it was now being called.

Khali knew none of this. How could she be so calm? They weren't even trying to get out of the object's way! It now appeared to be a planet—a gas giant with rings. Madness! These Starfleet types were suicidal!

"Sensors?"

"They're not showing anything," reported the science Officer. "Not even mass."

T'Lara nodded. "That is consistent with the reports of other sightings."

The giant planet rushed up to the starship until its face was so close it seemed as if they were going to slam into it. Clouds rushed past the ship. In the rear view, the clouds reappeared in a deepening blue sky. Glittering crystals appeared in the front view beyond the clouds. Khali glanced at nervously at the Captain, wondering whether the crystals would scrap the ship to ribbons. T'Lara only watched calmly at approaching doom.

The crystals seemed to dissolve before them – and resolved behind them. They were now into the planet's "surface." The crystals steadily became darker and dirtier-looking until they came upon ice-crystal clouds with flowing water. Beyond was liquid hydrogen which steadily became denser and denser until it was metallic.

"Fascinating," muttered T'Lara. For those who understood Vulcan psychology and body language, this was the equivalent of jumping up and down in the middle of the street.

_Fascinating?_ thought the terrified Earther. That was an understatement if Khali ever heard of one. This…this was mind-boggling!

Then they came upon the planet's core. Khali's eyes widened even further than he thought possible. The core appeared to be solid diamond! Yet the _Concordat_ and the two Earth ships passed through effortlessly as if it wasn't even there.

"Intriguing," commented the Vulcan Captain. "They are possibly using phasing technology of a type never encountered before."

They found a diamond the size of Earth, and all T'Lara could do was mumble some techno-nonsense?

Soon, the whole sequence of going through the layers was reversed as the starship went through to the other side. The planet soon shrunk to nothingness in the rear view.

As the crew stared at the viewscreen, amazed at what had transpired, the Captain announced casually, "cancel Blue Alert. Contact the _Achilles_ and _Guam,_ and inquire as to their condition."

"Yes, Sir."

"Science, coordinate with the department heads and see if you can modify the sensors to where we can actually investigate these sightings. I want to be informed as to whether the chemical photographs were successful in capturing this unprecedented event.

"Aye, Captain."

Dr. Khali looked around in amazement. The crew was slowly but surely going back to their routine as if what had just happened was routine.

Madness!

He finally exhaled when he realized that he had been holding his breath while that planet came barreling at, through and past the starship in mere seconds. Was it just seconds? Seemed like an eternity!

If that wasn't staged for their benefit….

Khali reeled under the implications. He'd heard whispers among the older races, whispers of First Ones. He had been casually thinking about such beings creating parallel Earths and he hadn't fully realized the enormity of it all until just now in the warp highway.

"Doctor Khali," said Captain T'Lara. "It is prudent that we do not process your request for now. My ship requires attention. We shall relay any information we find to you and the other delegates as well as your ships. Doubtless, they would be most interested in what occurred."

He realized that he was being asked to leave the bridge…politely, of course.

"Er…yes. Yes. I understand. Thank you for your time. Thanks for that most fascinating…experience."

T'Lara raised an eyebrow at his response and then turned to her duty, clearly dismissing him.

Nervously, Khali went into the turbolift. Conversations with his fellow travelers and Ambassador David Sheridan were going to be very interesting….


	2. Chapter 2

**USS_ Hanoi:_**

Jha'dur did not move as the glowing edges of the doorway blinked off, indicating the deactivation of the force field, permitting entry for visitors. She studied their movement and watched as two armed guards brought a small table and then two chairs into the cell, placing them before her without a word. Finally two more people stepped in, one elderly looking with a green tinge to his skin and the other a ruddier faced human. Both had neutral expressions and the air of confidence which comes from being long serving commanders. These two had seen it all and would be hard to impress. The force field was reactivated and the two Officers in red tunics sat down.

"My name is Admiral James T. Kirk, United Federation of planets," The human announced. "This is Captain Spock."

"My greetings," she purred, looking slowly from one to the other. "By now you know who I am, but formality and courtesy demands I make my own introduction. I am Jha'dur, last Warmaster of the Dilgar Imperium."

"A race and government that no longer exists," Spock said. "Yet you still remain loyal to it."

"It still exists, Captain." She smiled. "For as long as I live and breathe, the Imperium endures, which could be for a very long time."

"Why don't we get down to business," Kirk said. "What are you doing here?"

"Straight to the point." She smiled. "You are someone who knows what he wants and how to get it. Someone who knows the ways of command. Excellent." She chuckled. "But tell me Admiral, how do you feel about that? Does leadership fulfill you or leave you hollow inside?"

"You took a huge risk," Kirk continued. "If you'd have run into a League or EarthForce ship before coming here you'd probably be dead. Why are you here?"

"Why are any of us here?" She smiled constantly, a smile of superiority. "To be a leader is to be always alone, don't you agree?"

"Why are you here?"

"Did you ever find someone special, Admiral, a long term partner? Or did your life make long term commitment impossible? Do you regret it now that you are staring at your own mortality in the face with no legacy but your fame?" She was clearly enjoying this. "Yes I know, Admiral, a legend to your peers and enemies. You will be remembered forever because of your achievements, but who will carry your name? Who will truly know the Man James Kirk instead of the Legend? Where is your wife? Your child?"

There was a flicker in Kirk's expression, momentary, but long enough.

"I see now." Jha'dur grinned. "You have known true love, haven't you? You had it and lost it. You had that legacy, Admiral, a son or daughter who is now lost to you. Doesn't it make it all seem rather meaningless? All you have done, all you have achieved but to have your dearest creation snatched away with nothing the great hero can do to save it. Such a pity to feel so inadequate."

Kirk stared at her like a tiger stares at its next meal. She had no right to know all this, and certainly none to throw it in his face. She was nothing but a monster, a ghoul who deserved every pain she would receive.

He was about to answer when Spock stepped in. "Fascinating technique," he said. "By attempting to provoke an emotional response you seek to weaken our negotiating position."

Calmly she looked over to him. "And as a Vulcan you deem yourself immune?"

He did not feel surprise at her knowledge of his race. "By provoking Admiral Kirk you seek to manipulate him in a way favorable to your goals. I assure you, Warmaster, your efforts are in vain."

She smiled at Kirk. "Are they in vain, Admiral?"

He did not reply, allowing Spock to take over while he calmed down.

"Indeed one could ask the same question of you." The Vulcan remained implacable. "Are you satisfied with your achievements?"

"Eminently."

"You are known throughout the quadrant, infamous like no other," he continued. "You have made scientific advancement through questionable means and are clearly of superior intellect."

"Why, thank you." She continued smiling. "But you'll find appealing to my vanity a lost cause."

"I find everything about you a lost cause."

The smile vanished from her face in a heartbeat.

"Despite everything, the Dilgar are gone," Spock said. "All your efforts did not save them, and you remain the last of your kind. Alone, hated, isolated from the gifts life can offer. You have no legacy, and no family. Unlike the Admiral who lost his family by circumstance, you lost yours through your own design."

She kept an even expression, but Spock noted the twinge of a muscle on her neck that slipped through the carefully constructed façade.

"In war, one side wins, and another loses."

"Defeat does not mean destruction."

"For the Dilgar death is better than servitude."

"And yet you have been serving the Minbari."

She paused, and then the grin returned. "You are extremely well informed."

"Simple logic," Spock stated. "You arrive in a Minbari ship. You could not steal or buy one and so must have acquired it in Minbari territory, the perfect hiding place since the war ended. They would never allow you to be an equal so you must have served them, probably under one of the clans of the Warrior caste."

"Admirable," she nodded. "And the Minbari no doubt saw it that way, but I had a very different view upon who was using who."

by now, Kirk had recovered enough to speak calmly again. "You needed shelter from them to keep you away from the vengeful League, but what did they gain?"

"They gained my knowledge," she said. "A simple deal, they protect me and I tell them anything they need to know from my fields of expertise." She leaned forward. "And it is a deal I now offer the Federation, grant me asylum and security from my enemies and I will give you access to my research."

It didn't take too long for Kirk to see some potential there. If she had been among the higher echelons of the Minbari warrior caste there was clearly some advantage to questioning her. Yet even so, she was still a mass murderer on a scale beyond comprehension.

"What manner of research?" Spock asked.

"I was expert in the field of biological weapons and cyber-organics, a field which your people are still relatively new at."

"We're advanced enough," Kirk stated.

"Perhaps the Federation Science Council should make that decision?" she returned.

"We have no need of biological weapons," Spock said.

"Weapons, perhaps not. But what about cures?" She folded her arms. "You see, creating plagues was half my work, but then creating cures to inoculate Dilgar soldiers was also vital. In the process, I managed to find antidotes for poisons and natural diseases deemed incurable. I believe that skill could be of use to you."

Kirk glanced over at Spock who remained completely unreadable. The argument made by Jha'dur was similar to that made by the pre-Federation scientist Arik Soong.

"And as for cyber-organics," she continued. "While I used these advances for military purposes to create enhanced soldiers, when my people were being driven back. You could use them to help the old or infirmed. I am aware of the mechanical hearts and lungs you have in your medical facilities. My versions are far superior."

"And how do you know that?" Kirk asked.

"Just because Earth Alliance wanted my people defeated doesn't mean there aren't one or two humans who didn't owe me a favor or two. Just a matter of asking the right people."

"You helped them in the war?" Kirk was surprised.

She smiled-again. "Quid pro quo."

"You spent time among the Warrior caste?" Spock stated, changing the subject.

"A great deal of time."

"So you know their senior members?"

"I do." Would you like a psychological breakdown of them? Their understanding of war, basic tenets of Minbari combat? Roots of their honor system? Maybe an understanding of their vices and acts of self service or cowardice? Or maybe you just want to know the location and orbital cycles of the Minbari home defense network?" That cat-like grin remained fixed to her face. "Ship numbers and their leading Officers' profiles? Anything you could wish to know. I even have information nobody else would ever tell you." She dropped her voice. "Ever heard of Z'Ha'Dum?"

"And in return you want our protection?" Kirk said. "You want to escape justice?"

"Justice?" she scoffed. "There is no justice! You think if there was justice my world would have been destroyed?"

"An argument could be made," Spock suggested.

She eyed him closely. "Our war came about because we knew what fate had in store for us. We died in spite of it, not because of it."

"We died?" Spock picked up. "Surely you mean they died?"

"Part of me also died that day, some might say the best part," she returned. "When you see all you know and love turn to ash why don't you see how it affects you."

"The Federation is not in the habit of giving aid to mass murderers," Spock stated simply.

"Nor is it blind to practicality," she replied. "It can gain from what I offer."

"But at what price?" Kirk added.

"I know the price if you do not take my offer, a price paid in the blood of your people as you stumble around in Minbari space from trap to trap." She spoke quickly and to the point. "You have fought many fools, but there are those Minbari who are not idiots, and they are waiting and planning for your arrival." She chuckled. "You specifically, Admiral Kirk; they really don't like you."

"I get that a lot." he smiled back—it was not a pleasant smile. "I usually deserve it."

"The Minbari think so." Jha'dur looked at him carefully. "Of course I do have something else to offer."

"And that would be?"

"How about eternity?" She laughed a little. " Life eternal, Admiral, immortality."

Kirk shook his head. "Your records said you were insane."

Her eyes turned dark and she bared her teeth. "Insane?" she spat. "I did what was required."

"You slaughtered mercilessly," Spock announced. "Your actions went beyond survival."

"Don't pretend you know my motives," she snarled. "Stand on the edge of the abyss and see your future lost in darkness and death, then judge my actions."

"We've faced unbeatable enemies often enough," Kirk stated bluntly. "We never resorted to genocide."

"How noble of you," she dismissed. "But the point stands: I have found the secret of eternal life."

"Okay, how?"

She chuckled. "Not so easy, Admiral, you should know better."

"Worth a try," Kirk answered. "I assume you tell us when we take you to a safe location?"

"Correct."

"And if it turns out there is no secret?"

"It exists, Admiral, feel free to scan me and see how my biology functions. You will see I am in perfect health, better than perfect and nothing like my recorded age."

Kirk looked to Spock who nodded slowly. "A prudent precaution. It could plausibly answer a few questions. Her current appearance in spite of her historical age, for instance."

"All right. If what you say is true it doesn't mean anything," Kirk said. "The Federation has standards, and I want to see you go to trial under Federation law."

"Never going to happen," she said confidently. "I am no fool Admiral; I came here because I know something about humans."

"About the humans here," Kirk pointed out. "You'll find we are very different."

"You cannot trick me Admiral." She leaned back. "Admit it or deny it, but at your core you are the same as the people who defeated my world, and ultimately you are the same as the Dilgar."

Kirk scoffed. "Trying to get me angry again?"

"All races have the capacity for genocide, just look at your own history."

"We've moved on."

"Don't insult my intelligence."

"What you did was bloodlust," Kirk said.

Jha'dur laughed. "Who am I to deny myself a little sport?"

He sat back in annoyance, letting Spock have his turn.

"We will assess your offer and consult with our superiors."

"Do that," she said. "I see Admiral Brock Cartwright as a very practical man, I am sure he will have views on my gifts."

"Some of them," Spock replied. "Your knowledge of the Minbari may prove useful."

"And immortality." she asked. "Are you not tempted?"

"Immortality holds no promise for me."

She turned to Kirk. "And you, Admiral, don't we all ask for more time to finish what we started? To leave a true legacy? Perhaps another child to carry on your name?"

He looked stoically at her. "The only thing worse than dying is living forever."

She looked coolly at him, pale eyes locked on his. "Do you really believe that Admiral?"

"If you knew the things I'd seen, and the offers I've turned down you wouldn't ask that," he returned. "The Federation already have several methods of immortality at hand. And all has been rejected."

Jha'dur was surprised. "Really? They're probably not as efficient as my method."

Kirk smirked. "We'll see. There is nothing you can give me that would make a difference, nothing. The only thing I want from you is the information to keep our ships and crews alive and winning battles."

"If that is your price, you may have it," she said. "But only if my price is accepted. When I am in your quadrant, I will tell you everything."

Kirk stood, prompting Spock to follow suit. "Don't call us, we'll call you."

He gestured to the guards who deactivated the force field.

"You might be a born leader, Admiral Kirk," Jha'dur said to his back. "But you are not the first I have known, and I'll have you know they all have one thing in common."

"And that is?"

"They die before their time."

He left the room, and as he walked away he could feel her laughing eyes watching his every step.

**Day Eleven**

"Captain, there are three unidentified vessels paralleling our course."

"Specify," Captain T'Lara ordered.

"Sir, sensors can't lock onto the vessels but our optical telescopes can and we are imaging the ships through chemical film. We can relay those images to the main screen."

"That is acceptable. Do so now."

Onscreen, there were three ships traveling together. One was unquestionably Minbari a modified _Sharlin_. But it was the others that captured the crews' attention. One was of Klingon configuration of a type never seen before. It was huge, even larger than the ships that had accompanied the chancellors' daughter, Azetbur to the Courtor system. It possessed the classic configuration of the Klingon battle cruiser, however the differences were obvious. The 'neck was much shorter and the nacelles were longer and rounder. The bridge section was more triangular and windows were seen there and throughout the ship, and the ship wings were much larger and barely tapered. The overall size indicated that it was larger than the _Concordat's _three hundred twenty meters two meters by almost three hundred-eighty meters. It was a monster that made the dreadnaught pale in comparison.

The other vessel was unmistakably of Federation design – but not one they were familiar with…

"Captain, it measures seven hundred meters," her science Officer told her. There was more than a trace of awe in his voice as he continued with his analysis. It has a double pylon structure; however the nacelles are secured between the pylons probably giving them extra strength, against the fantastic stress that that ship must generate. It was probably transwarp capable, he thought. From what I can speculate, the nacelles can adjust position, allowing for optimal warp field configuration. The power output of that ship must be phenomenal."

T'Lara was completely unaware that she was standing. Logically, she shouldn't even be looking at this vessel if it was indeed from the future as she suspected. Starfleet could not have kept such a design secret. It was a clearly a warship, as was the Klingon heavy class dreadnaught accompanying it. Both ships were of designs she knew engineers hadn't yet devised. The Minbari warship was of a standard design with small differences than that of the Minbari warships encountered so far.

"Captain," her First Officer said. "We should not be looking at this vessel." Like her, he assumed that those ships had to be from the future. That implied that the corridor was more than just a simple passage, a suspicion that many of the scientist studying the transit way had concluded.

No. Standing orders were clear, and vessels determined to be from the future were not to be scanned, or contacted in any way. However, Vulcan determination won over Vulcan logic. In this case…

"I do not believe that these vessels are from '_our'_ future," she announced with finality. "I do not think it likely that they would be traveling with a Minbari _Sharlin_. Can we contact them?"

"It's impossible, Captain," the Science Officer said. "Unlike the ships traveling with us, those vessels are slightly out of phase, just like the planets. We can't scan them or communicate with them."

**USS Enterprise:**

**Minbari Territory **

"Admiral, sir!" The security Officer stepped up to Kirk as he left. "Sir, signal from Starfleet Command."

Spock raised an eyebrow as Kirk took the message and read it, finally screwing up the piece of paper with an angry expression.

"I take it that was bad news."

"Admiral Cartwright is arranging for that woman to be sent to Earth," Kirk said through gritted teeth. "He caved in."

"He likely has good reason," Spock said. "It is illogical to ignore information simply because we do not like the messenger."

"That's an understatement," Kirk muttered.

"She is dangerous, and I do not believe Admiral Cartwright is skilled enough to resist her manipulation."

"Before she goes to Earth, we're going to need a negotiator who is immune." Kirk saw where Spock was going.

"One in full control of his emotions."

"A Vulcan."

"I will send a message to my father and inform him," Spock stated simply.

"Then she'll be in good hands." Kirk smiled wryly.

"She was wrong, Admiral." Spock said simply. "You have left a personal legacy, and your actions have been fulfilling."

Kirk turned to his friend with a hint of surprise. "A compliment, Spock?"

"A fact, Admiral." he tilted his head ever so slightly. "The needs of the many…"

"I remember." He chuckled. "Thank you, Spock." He added that last with total sincerity.

"As for the issue of progeny, your nephew, Peter, still lives."

"Oh yes." Kirk smiled fondly. "The little terror. No, not little any more. He joined Starfleet officers training last yet. He's barely able to shave!"

"I shall speak to Ambassador Sarek," Spock stated. "Whatever Warmaster Jha'dur is planning, she will not achieve it."

**Transitway**

**USS _Concordat: same time_**

"That may necessarily not be true," Communications said.

"Explain."

"We can't talk to them directly. However, we can transmit a simple form of optical communication. For example we can flash our lights in a specific code such as the old Morse code."

"Acceptable. Federation ships have a variety of visual transmission techniques that can be applied to this situation. Those vessels may not use any of our codes but we can make the attempt. Please apply the most commonly used visual transmission and codes and attempt to communicate using our orbital lighting. And please have Mr. Khali join us so that he may witness this. It might provide illumination for him."

"Yes, Ma'am." The communication's Officer smiled. Who said that Vulcans didn't have a sense of humor? "Standard hail using Federation visual code four three…they are responding."

On screen, the huge Federation vessel's lights began flashing, just as Dr. Khali and two members of Earth Forces were allowed entry onto the bridge.

"Translating. "_USS Voyager-A NCC-74656_, a_Sovereign_-class Federation Starship. Admiral Kathryn Janeway onboard, Captain Chakotay commanding. They are asking how is it that we're using this corridor.

"Transmit this message," the Captain ordered. "We discovered and have been using this passage for almost nine months. Why are they accompanied by a captured enemy warship towards Earth?"

"Response Captain. They are saying … We are at peace with the Klingon Empire for the last seven years. It is obvious that you are from a different reality and possibly temporal location. May we ask why you are traveling with Earth Alliance vessels?"

"Fascinating," the Captain of the _Concordat_ said. "Mr. Yamada, tie the translator directly to our 'Morse' code so that we can achieve voice communication. And please patch our communications to the Earth Alliance ships so that our allies may be aware of our situation. "

"Working on it now." A few moments later, Yamada nodded. The voice would be artificial however communication would be somewhat easier. "This is Captain T'Lara of the USS _Concordat_, to Admiral Janeway and Captain Chakotay of the USS _Voyager_, Greetings."

The response was immediate. "Greetings Captain. It is nice to see a fellow Federation vessel. I am curious though about your knowledge concerning these passage way. We've only just received knowledge of its existence."

"We have been using it to travel from the Alpha quadrant to Earth Alliance territory. I must ask you, what is your purpose in traveling with a captured Minbari to Earth?"

"We are not at war with the Minbari," said the Admiral, an answer that came as a shock to the crew of the Federation dreadnaught and the warships of Earth Alliance. "We have had a lot of difficulty with Earth Alliance and EarthForce under the leadership of President Morgan Clark. Earth Alliance was under a dictatorship by Clark and EarthForce had standing orders to acquire our technology by any means necessary. There were several disputes between our Starfleet and EarthForce despite our entreaties."

"Why would President Clark attack you ship?"

"He needed the technology to maintain his hold over Earth during the civil war under his regime."

"Civil war? What civil war? Please clarify."

**To be continued **


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**USS _Concordat:_**

**Warp Superhighway-Day Thirteen **

Amir Khali's memoirs: _Chapter five, the Journey to Federation Earth: _

_The last two days have been essentially uneventful as compare to the extraordinary events that occurred on day nine of the journey to the place we are calling Federation Earth. We should be there in another few hours according to our hosts, and then we will see what we shall see._

_To say that journey has been boring would be a misrepresentation of the facts. Everything that I've seen so far, proves that this system of government that the Federation has created must collapse upon itself in a matter of decades, a century at most. The variety of aliens on this ship will serve only to create chaos in the future as cultural and societal pressures crush this altruistic and idealistic utopia they are trying to create. Try as they may there are too many obstacles baring a successful conclusion to this experiment of theirs. The difference in foods, the cultural nuances, the smells, the differences in, or lack of body language; all are barriers that will eventually thrust through and destroy the fantasies these people have created. _

_My inescapable conclusion is that the Federation as we see it now is doomed to implode upon itself in approximately ninety years, plus or minus fifteen. By my calculations, there are too many unknown variables that guarantee failure. I keep returning to Ibn Khaldun's social cycle theory which supports my observations. That theory is very relevant as I continue to study the social development of the Federation from its birth to today. The Federation, its technology, its diversity, its unbridled almost pathological sociological development has reached it zenith of development. Not content with their own achievements, they've now resorted to genetic manipulation in order to create Human-alien hybrids that nature would abhor under any normal circumstance. That, in my opinion, is the catalyst that may well spell the doom of this society because when that society reaches its peak according to theory it must then decline. There are barbarians at the gates of the Federation. They, whether they be the Romulans, or perhaps even their once enemies and now allies the Klingons, will weaken this already fractured society._

_The__ Roman Emperor Diocletian realized this and provided a model that still applies today.__This Federated society is simply growing too fast. With so much territory to govern, they will quickly come to the inescapable conclusion, as I already have, that they will have to undergo a form of territorial mitosis, breaking into smaller units in order to survive. __I believe I will call this syndrome the '_Diocletian Solution'_, or the '_Federation Ruination Imperative: the Quest Towards Destruction'

_But all is not hopeless. Earth Alliance, a purely Human society, can provide a stability that these Humans have lost in their zeal to explore, seeking out new life and new civilizations, fearlessly going where they shouldn't until they're more mature. And I believe that the Federation can survive in some limited form, although technological sharing has helped accelerate the problem, there is no denying that it has also advanced these people far above where they would be if they developed individually. _

_But at the same time, I am cognizant of the dangers of developing too fast, outstripping their maturity in handling such technological developments. Their collective reaction to the planet we 'passed through' is a consummate example of the theory I am developing. Such an experience should have been humbling at least. They didn't seem to care, took it all in stride as if it were another microbiological experiment to catalogue for future reference. They've lost the wonder of it all. They've become jaded, unable to appreciate the things they've seen. I've tried to explain to them of their 'trek' towards ruination, but they are not listening. I worry for them. They may not listen to me. The unenlightened never do until it's too late._

_-+-_

"Ambassador Mollari, how are you enjoying the trip?" asked Ambassador David Sheridan. He and several others were relaxing in the commons room surrounded by crewmen and local aliens which included the Narn, and the Abbai. The huge window using transparent aluminum to keep space out was a wonder. Sales of the material would soon be a boon to Earth Alliance and every other government in the area.

"Enjoyable, most enjoyable," he responded. "Other than the company," he muttered, pointing at the Narn eyeing him from a distance, "I have had no complaints. And even they have been acting relatively civilized during the trip. My talks with them have been more enjoyable than with some of my own people. Amazing! But the Humans and their associates here fascinate me. They are different. One could almost believe that their example could make our people get along with each other. How do they do it? I don't understand it. Those Vulcans are so boring that I start yawning as so as one of them opens his mouth. They are about as exciting as watching leaves grow one day at a time. It is, as you say, like watching grass dry?"

Ambassador Sheridan couldn't help but chuckle at that.

"The Humans here are like you Earthers; impulsive, arrogant, amusingly sly, some times wicked in the most fascinating ways. And as a bonus, they have a marvelous selection of food and drink. Most fascinating creatures."

"They are a bit strange, but in many ways it's like simply traveling to a different country," Sheridan said.

"Interesting perspective. Do you trust them?"

"With what little I know?" He thought about it. "Yes."

"I believe the Emperor does as well. We have some reservations," he whispered. "But the opportunities we may gain cannot be ignored. That is why we are traveling with the Narns. If the Narn can ingratiate themselves to the Federation, so can we."

Sheridan merely smiled. Greed, the duct tape of civilization. "However, Ambasasdor - I" He stopped in mid-sentence. "Oh, my god! Is that a Minbari warship in here with us?"

"Impossible!" yapped Mollari. Others rushed to the windows to see what had surprised Sheridan and now Mollari. "It came out of nowhere. I don't understand! Is it going to attack us?"

"Wait. It's another ship out there," Sheridan exclaimed. "Looks like a Starfleet vessel and a Klingon ship. But they're different. Huge, in fact, relatively speaking of course!"

_**Becerra Alpha One**_

Jha'dur's boredom was finally interrupted by a pair of Starfleet security personnel in their distinctive anti-flash gear. She paused to observe the material, weighing up its potential effectiveness, its coverage, mobility, estimated weight and rigidity, then stood with her traditional fixed grin, a look of supreme confidence which had served her well in the past.

"Ah, room service. Did you bring me a cup of hot Jalla?"

Her cell bars retracted into the wall before the utterly expressionless guards. "You will come with us."

"Day trip?"

"The negotiator wishes to see you."

"Well finally," she huffed with mock indignation. "You would think the secrets of the Minbari would be more appreciated by Starfleet. Perhaps I should have surrendered to the Klingons."

The guards put on wrist restraints, then led her via a brief walk across to the interview room. The corridor leading there was completely empty and cleared in anticipation of the guest. The guards opened the door with a security code Jha'dur was sharp enough to remember, and then walked her in.

The room was simple enough; white in the Federation style with a metal chamber and two simply designed chairs. No other items were visible but she suspected there was a wealth of sensors embedded in the walls and ceiling.

But by far the most interesting aspect of the room was its sole occupant, a heavily robed Humanoid with neatly trimmed grey hair and the sort of regal presence usually associated with royalty. She recognized him as Vulcan based on his pointed ears and greenish tinge to the flesh, and was quite positive there was a resemblance to Captain Spock.

"You may release the hand restraints," the Vulcan said in a deep timbre. "I am in no danger."

"Such faith in my intentions," Jha'dur beamed.

"Logic," the Vulcan answered. "You see me as the doorway to freedom. You will not jeopardize your chances in a futile demonstration of aggression."

Jha'dur rubbed her wrists as the restraints were taken off, gradually restoring full circulation to her hands.

"Guards, you may leave," the Vulcan stated, and the officers left without question.

"Thank you for the company," Jha'dur called after them. "Talkative group you employ there, mister Negotiator."

"They are Starfleet personnel; they serve of their own will."

"I see. So even in this time of war, your military is volunteer-based only?"

"We have sufficient numbers to complete our missions."

"And how many is that?"

"Enough to be sufficient."

The Dilgar survivor grinned wider at that. "Well answered. I am Warmaster Jha'dur of the Dilgar Imperium, as I am sure you already know."

"I am Ambassador Sarek of the Federation High Council."

"An honor to meet you." She took the seat closest to her, Sarek doing the same. For a long moment she studied the age worn diplomat, he was clearly an older member of his race but his movements showed no weariness or stiffness.

"Before we start with the business at hand, may I ask a question?"

"You may ask," he responded. "You may not receive an answer."

"How old do Vulcans live?"

"It varies, but living beyond two Human centuries is not uncommon," Sarek said simply.

"Fascinating," Jha'dur said with a slight twist of the lips. "So even an elder Vulcan would be fit and healthy for well over a hundred years?"

"If you are wondering whether you can overpower me due to my age, I assure you that would be extremely unlikely."

The Warmaster paused for a few seconds. "As you said earlier, it does me no good to harm you."

"But you are also one who likes to know her options," Sarek stated flatly. "My homeworld has higher gravity and a thinner atmosphere than the Human average. I am therefore notably stronger than most Humanoids. I would discourage any physical violence."

"Where is the fun in that?"

Sarek merely stared at her.

"I see the Vulcan sense of humor is as arid as your world."

"Vulcan humor exists, contrary to Human myth," Sarek answered. "We do not need to express it through uncontrolled sound."

"You are a curious species," Jha'dur remarked. "Such control, such discipline, all towards the goal of pure logical enlightenment."

"The Vulcan race has many goals."

"Must be terrible to be junior to Humans."

The Ambassador didn't miss a beat. "The Federation is a union of equal members. No one is superior to another."

"Everybody is equal then," Jha'dur stated. "But some are more equal than others."

"That statement makes no sense."

"It's Human," she shrugged. "That may explain it. But the concept is sound. One may preach equality but it doesn't mean one has to practice it."

"Indeed, but the Federation is a practitioner of what it preaches?"

"Wonderful." She sat back. "So the commander of Starfleet is what – a Vulcan?"

"He is Human."

"And Starfleet security? Starfleet operations? How about Starfleet Medical? What about the Admiral running the offensive operations against Minbar? Or the Sector Commander? Surely they aren't all Humans?"

Sarek remained unfazed. "You seem to know a lot about our command structure."

"It was easily accessed information, public knowledge for your people," Jha'dur dismissed. "However I do see the head of Starfleet's scientific division is a Vulcan. You must be so proud."

"Pride is a weakness."

"Lack of military power is a weakness," Jha'dur corrected. "Almost the entire senior command of your military are Humans. All your ships are named in the Human style. Federation standard is the English language. Every ship, facility and uniform proudly announces it belongs to the Federation, in nice neat English writing."

"Earth was the original proponent of a unified Starfleet; that explains their representation."

"I bet they were!" Jha'dur scoffed. "With such power at their finger tips I have no doubt they wanted such a force. The military knowledge and resources of a hundred worlds firmly under Human command. Doesn't that bother you? Doesn't it worry you?"

"It does not."

"The Humans are so impulsive." She sighed. "Look what they did to the Minbari, they often act irrationally."

"On occasion."

"Yet despite their lack of control, Vulcan will let them command the most potent military force outside of the elder powers. You may as will give a child the codes for a nuclear weapon."

"Humanity has matured admirably under the…"

"Guidance of the Vulcans!" Jha'dur spoke the words in triumph. "I suspected as much. We now see which race considers itself the senior partner."

"The Vulcan race is older and wiser. That is simple fact," Sarek replied implacably.

"So you guide the Humans." Jha'dur smiled. "Vulcans, Vorlons, what's in a name?"

"Your analogy is flawed."

"So Vulcan did not artificially restrict Human development after first contact?"

"Many choices were made. Some in hindsight were erroneous."

"The Vulcans have made mistakes?"

"All races have."

"And is it a mistake now to let Humans run Starfleet?"

"They are well suited to the task."

"You are talking to one who ruled worlds because she ruled a military force. Political power is nothing compared to military power."

"I disagree."

"Humanity rules the Federation."

"You are incorrect."

"So the President and council reside on Earth for the scenery?" Jha'dur wondered. "Or because they are easier to control at the heart of the mighty Starfleet?"

Sarek regarded her quietly. "I admire your technique. But you will not sway my opinions of the Federation and make me pliable to your wishes."

"I am so disappointed," Jha'dur mocked.

**_USS Concordat_ Bridge:**

"Captain, there are three unidentified vessels paralleling our course."

"Specify," Captain T'Lara ordered.

"Sir, sensors can't lock onto the vessels but our optical sensors can and we are imaging the ships through chemical film. We can relay those images to the main screen."

"That is acceptable. Do so now."

Onscreen, there were three ships traveling together. One was unquestionably Minbari, a modified _Sharlin_. But it was the others that captured the crews' attention. One was of Klingon configuration of a type never seen before. It was huge, even larger than the ships that had accompanied the Chancellors' daughter, Azetbur to the Courtor system. It possessed the classic configuration of the Klingon battle cruiser, however the differences were obvious. The 'neck was much shorter and the nacelles were longer and rounder. The bridge section was more triangular and windows were seen there and throughout the ship, and the ship wings were much larger and barely tapered. The overall size indicated that it was larger than the _Concordat's _three hundred twenty meters two meters by almost three hundred-eighty meters. It was a monster that made the Federation dreadnaught pale in comparison.

The other vessel was unmistakably of Federation design – but not one they were familiar with…

"Captain, it measures seven hundred meters," her science Officer told her. There was more than a trace of awe in his voice as he continued with his analysis. "It has a double pylon structure; however the nacelles are secured between the pylons probably giving them extra strength, against the fantastic stress that that ship must generate. It was probably transwarp capable, he thought. "From what I can speculate, the nacelles can adjust position, allowing for optimal warp field configuration. The power output of that ship must be phenomenal."

T'Lara was completely unaware that she was standing. Logically, she shouldn't even have been looking at this vessel if it was indeed from the future as she suspected. Starfleet could not have kept such a design secret. It was a clearly a warship, as was the Klingon heavy class dreadnaught accompanying it. Both ships were of designs she knew engineers hadn't yet devised. The Minbari warship was of a standard design, with small differences than that of the Minbari warships encountered so far.

"Captain," her First Officer said. "We should not be looking at this vessel." Like her, he assumed that those ships had to be from the future. That implied that the corridor was more than just a simple passage, a suspicion that many of the scientist studying the transit way had concluded.

No. Standing orders were clear, and vessels determined to be from the future were not to be scanned, or contacted in any way. However, Vulcan determination won over Vulcan logic. In this case…

"I do not believe that these vessels are from '_our'_ future," she announced with finality. "I do not think it likely that they would be traveling with a Minbari _Sharlin_. Can we contact them?"

"It's impossible, Captain," the Science Officer said. "Unlike the ships traveling with us, those vessels are slightly out of phase, just like the planets. We can't scan them or communicate with them."

"That may necessarily not be true," the Lieutenant at the Communications station said.

"Explain."

-+-

"Oh, my god! Is that a Minbari warship in here with us?" the Human had asked, so loudly that everyone could hear.

Those words alone were enough for Turo Condari running go to the transparencies to see for himself. And the sight stunned him. The ship was a Minbari _Sharlin_, flying along side what had to be enemy heavy battleships of a type he'd never seen before. His near photographic memory couldn't identify the enemy vessels however the _Sharlin's _design was a mystery to him as well. At first appearance it looked like the standard _Drala Fi_ class, but the color was wrong. To him, it appeared a bit too blue and the drive fins design deviatedfrom the usual standard. The main guns were slightly smaller than standard but they were paired weapons mounts. He'd never seen anything quite like it.

"Impossible!" yapped Mollari as the stupid and drunk Centauri gaped at the ship, no ships. Turo and the others crowded to the windows to see what had surprised Sheridan and now Mollari. "It came out of nowhere. I don't understand! Is it going to attack us?"

Turo wished it would have. Then this nightmare would be over. After another second's observation, his anger rose and he found himself clamping down on his growing rage before it caused him to blow his cover.

Turo Condari was dead.

He died seven months earlier and his body was never found because no one thought to look for him. Nur's impersonation of him made sure of that. The surgery had been long, somewhat painful but ultimately successful for the Minbari assassin now impersonating him. Turo's position allowed for the perfect cover and since he was not married nor had any close relatives, impersonation was relatively easy. Nur of the Blood Knives clan's biggest problem was trying to properly impersonate a Centauri. It took years of study and training before he was sent on his current mission.

That mission began because it was believed that the Centauri were covertly helping the Earthers with supplies and weapons but no one had proof. The Great Houses were nothing like Minbari society and the government did not want to punish the whole of the Centauri for the actions of a few greedy houses. Therefore he was sent to find out the truth and to punish those responsible.

There was no evidence to be found, however with the infiltration of the Great Enemies into the war, his orders were changed. The orders were to kill Admiral James T. Kirk and Commodore Acaltha (who was added a bit later), preferably in front of an audience as a demonstration of Minbari power and resolve. The Human named Kirk was hated and feared as the known face of the enemy, one who used antimatter weapons inside Minbari territories without respect to life; while Acaltha was hated and feared as the legalized pirate-killer-butcher of countless numbers of innocent Minbari of all castes. There were others as well but they were first on the list and once placed there, those names would never be removed.

While on _Becerra Alpha One_, he attempted to get close enough to kill the arrogant Human but that had been impossible. Even with the Changeling net, he could not get close enough. The stations sensors picked up the emissions, something he thought impossible to do, and he had to turn off, abandon and destroy that valuable piece of equipment before security tracked him down. That had been a great personal loss. Acaltha and Kirk had left son after and he was stuck on an alien space station surround by enemies. Without orders, he was at a loss so he again completely submerged his Minbari persona and once more became the confident, but isolated Turo Condari.

As he lived on the station he carefully observed everything. The Centauri and Narn, and the Abbai were openly collaborating with the Federation and Earth Alliance. They had no respect for the Minbari, of all the sacrifice done to preserve their species from a war they never knew about, All of them would be suitably punished when the war was over he assumed. The Assassin was surprise by how well the captured Minbari were treated. Their prison cells were more than reasonable and they weren't mistreated. In fact, many of the wounded had been healed and were now in good health. They should have all committed suicide, but being pragmatic, he understood that they were doing what they had to do in order to survive. Besides the Federation had already gotten into Minbari databanks and gleaned a lot of information before his people had realized the magnitude of the threat. A few lives were of no consequence.

But _BA-1_ station underscored the enormous danger this war had become to his people. The technology, the shared resources and the closeness of the Humans to their alien associates proved to Nur that his people would lose unless something changed immediately. He prayed that the Vorlons would enter the war soon or all was lost. There was nothing he could do to change the out come of the war if they didn't enter, but he could do his best to disrupt things. The molecular explosive components injected into his bone marrow and secreted into his spleen sac would be sufficient to level a thousand meters in all directions. Killing everyone at the Federation council he would attend with Londo Mollari was a good idea.

That opportunity presented itself by this journey to the so-called Alpha quadrant. This journey also had the added effect to make him hate and fear the allies that much more. The experiences onboard, including witnessing the transparent planet that the ship flew into and out of strained at his sanity. And now this Minbari vessel appearing out of nowhere added to the pressure.

It seemed to be _Sharlin_ assaulter with a _Shagotti_battle design. "How did the enemy capture such a ship?" he wanted to scream. The ship had no damage as far as he could see and was running in non-stealth mode. His heart went cold. If the Federation Earthers – and that's what they were, contrary to popular opinion at home. These were no colonists but a whole, completely separate unit of Humanity – analyzed that ship, there would be no stopping them. And there was nothing he could do but curse them and continue his plan to kill as many of government officials as he could.

_**Becerra Alpha One**_

"Shall we continue with the matter at hand?"

"Of course, if the Vulcans really do see themselves guiding Humanity still, then there must be some among your species who wish to bend Humans to your will."

"Perhaps."

"Do you wish to guide Humanity, Ambassador Sarek?"

"No more than I wish to help anyone who asks for it. But I do not force my will on others."

"So, you have never bent a Human to your will?" Jha'dur grinned widely. "Never dominated one, commanded one? Never felt that sense of achievement when you tell a lesser being to do your will and see them scurry about to complete it?"

"I do not see…"

"One called Amanda perhaps?" she interrupted.

Just briefly Sarek showed a flicker of anger.

"What an excellent way for a Vulcan to feel superior," Jha'dur continued. "To take a lesser being for a wife. Simple genius. You are reminded every single day of your higher place in the universe."

"There is nothing inferior about my wife. I do not expect you to understand."

"I wonder if your fellow Vulcans agree?" she mused. "Do they look down on you for your low tastes perhaps? Snigger behind you back? Mock your masculinity?

How difficult it must be for you. And Spock."

"We are respected or condemned solely on our merits."

"So you say." Jha'dur sighed. "How is your son?"

"He is well."

"He has a powerful personality, such force of will. I imagine he was a difficult child to rear."

"My son is his own man."

"Yes, very willful, not at all respectful of his father's wishes."

"He has achieved a great deal on his chosen path."

"How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is to have a thankless child."

"Shakespeare's King Lear," Sarek quoted.

"Human literature." Jha'dur remarked. "I'm sure you had a lot of that at home, Spock appears quite a student of Human culture over Vulcan."

"He is part Human. It would be illogical to deny that side of his being."

"And that just rips you up inside doesn't it?" the Warmaster snarled, a sudden vicious anger coming over her. "To come from such a rigid social structure and to produce this aberration? This weak child? This half Human whelping? It is a disgrace!"

"I have nothing but respect for my son."

"What about love?"

She let the question hang in the air before Sarek. "Still, at least he turned out better than the other one." She glared at Sarek. Funny isn't it? The pure Vulcan child you produced went insane and started looking for God! Perhaps the fault is not in the child or mother, but the Father."

Sarek remained impassive. "You are indeed well informed."

"Maybe the reason Spock succeeded was because he did ignore you," the Warmaster continued. "You must feel like such a terrible failure to have such a weak and disconnected family."

Sarek, totally without warning, smiled. It caught Jha'dur a little off guard.

"Choices."

"What about them?"

"Choices are the definition of freedom and maturity," spoke Sarek slowly and concisely. "Much as we may wish it we cannot make choices for our loved ones. I cannot make my sons choices for them, I cannot make choices for Humanity based on Vulcan wishes, and I cannot choose who I fall in love with."

"How beautiful," Jha'dur laughed, a somewhat unpleasant sound. "A poetic Vulcan, now I have seen it all."

"It is a simple fact. Choice defines sentience. Long ago we learned not to interfere with the affairs of those who were still developing, to stand by and let them discover their path alone. A Prime Directive if you will. Today we guide, we advise. We do not choose for anyone but ourselves."

"And from this stems your famous moral superiority?"

"From this stems freedom, and equality, and the United Federation of Planets."

"Have you made a choice for me?" Jha'dur asked.

"That is up to you," Sarek said. "Help us and we will ensure your cooperation is understood at your trial."

She laughed. "There will be no trial!"

"You are mistaken."

"You, Warmaster, are mistaken." Sarek spoke calmly. "Federation law ensures that any accused of a crime has a right to legal representation. That authority comes from the President, the civilian Government."

"An impractical arrangement, one my people discarded long ago."

"The merits of which are questionable at best." He steeped his fingers in front of him. "In any case, you will go to trial no matter what. Your level of assistance will decide your ultimate punishment."

"My choice?" she considered with a taint of bitterness.

"It has always been your choice."

She leaned forward. "I will tell you nothing until I reach Federation Space."

"If you do not help, if you choose not to, then you will stand trial here in the area of space you decimated."

"You need me more than I need you."

"In that you are mistaken," Sarek said icily. "And you know it."

"I am nobody's pawn," Jha'dur snapped. "The terms are mine, learn the Minbari defenses from me or risk losing fleets."

"Offer the information freely and the Federation will provide defense representation for your trial."

"Don't make me laugh! Any trial would be a whitewash!"

"Federation law will be used to ensure fairness."

"I didn't come all this way to die."

"That may not be the case, if you are willing to help."

The last Dilgar shook her head. "We're talking about thousands of lives among your crews."

"Which you could not care less about," Sarek replied. "You only care for your own life, and that was enough for you to take the risk of coming here."

"I have other cares beyond my life."

"You are an excellent liar, but still a liar."

"Then consider this." Jha'dur leaned forward. "I can give you the secret of immortality."

"The Federation does not require immortality."

"I didn't say that. I am offering it to you in person."

"I do not need it. Death holds no fear for me. It is simply the logical conclusion of life. The Katra is eternal."

"Your superstitions mean nothing to me," the Warmaster dismissed. "But your needs and desires; that is something else."

"I am here simply on diplomatic business."

"But your life is not defined by that one thing. You may live two centuries or more, but what about that wife you profess to love? How long do you think she has?"

Sarek paused, Amanda was Human with a lifespan roughly half his own, maybe less. Even now as he was on this mission Amanda was fading, growing weaker and less able to leave her home on Vulcan. The contrast between her failing health and Sarek's own undiminished strength was deeply painful for the Vulcan.

"She doesn't have to die," Jha'dur spoke softly, reasonably, enticingly. "I have a way where she and you can be together forever. You will never have the sorrow of parting, the cold emptiness inside as you stand by her grave. You will be energetic and free to live as you see fit to experience anything you could desire. An eternity of bliss with your beloved, how close to heaven is that?"

Sarek was a Vulcan and that meant he could control his emotions, but not that he had none as many races seemed to believe. He could feel joy and grief as acutely as any creature. He simply took pride in controlling those impulsive reactions. But Amanda was something else. When he dwelt on her and what was becoming of her, it took all of his considerable reserve not to break down at the sheer injustice of it. He wanted to blame someone, illogical as that was, for Amanda's nature and the severance that would be forced on him. Containing his feelings was all but impossible, and even though it was the merest of twinges his face registered a hint of weakness.

The Warmaster pounced. "For all your technology and medicine the federation cannot save her," Jha'dur whispered. "Or more accurately, they can but will not."

Sarek looked up at her.

"The Federation has been tempted with immortality before you say. They have means and methods. Your associate, Admiral Kirk told me he had turned his back on eternity before. How nice to have the choice."

She leaned forward. "But Amanda has no choice does she? The decision to help her was taken by somebody else, somebody not in her position."

Sarek remained quiet.

"What they deny, I give." Jha'dur smiled. "So the Federation will not accept my offer as it stands? Fine, it will be their loss but I will not endure a show trial."

"You can't escape from this facility."

"I'm not going to. I am going to walk out of the front door on a Federation ship, yours to be precise."

Sarek glanced at her with a raised eyebrow. "You presume much."

"You will facilitate my journey to the Alpha Quadrant," Jha'dur said. "And in return I will save the life of your wife, and your own."

"You are asking me to betray the Federation."

"You have a chance to save your wife."

"At the price of my beliefs?"

"Your perspective can change, but death is constant," she sighed. "If you wish to be a pawn of the Federation, this Homo Sapien's only club, feel free. But if you want to save Amanda, you will help me get to the Alpha Quadrant and safety."

"You are a murderer beyond compare."

"Don't play morality with me. Make a decision," she insisted.

**TBC  
**

**This will be continued in two weeks. For some reason there are bold text where there should be none and I can't seem to get rid of it. Also thanks to L-C for his continuing contribution and RenS for his comments and editing of that character we love to hate. **

**A bit of background info: For those who do not know, Voyager and the two other vessels are the ships from the 'Allies by Blood' series and for details on the Courtor transitway you'll have to read that last chapter to see why this is happening. Nothing here is coicidence. Then, as I have not mentioned here, what Voyager's sensors are seeing of the passageway is not what the TOS people are seeing. Theirs are a more primitive and they simply see a tunnel and not what Voyager and that group are seeing. When this next chapter comes up in two weeks, I will determine if I should add the Janeway - Q portion to explain why she's doing waht she's about to do in chapter four. But we shall see. **

**Please enjoy and comments are welcomed. **

**One last thing. Worker72 and another have sent me private messages. I will respond to them asap but yahoo is acting up on me and I can barely read any mail, let alone answer at this time. So please be patient and I will get to you. But I can say that I probably will not have the Drakh involved in ATV-2. We have something different in mind. Take care, everyone  
**

**Thanks,**

**AlbertG/Skeet **


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"**Just One of Those Days"**

**_Concordat_ Bridge_-Day 13_**

"We can't talk to them directly. However, we can transmit a simple form of optical communication. For example we can flash our lights in a specific code such as the old Morse code."

"Acceptable. Federation ships have a variety of visual transmission techniques that can be applied to this situation. Those vessels may not use any of our codes but we can make the attempt. Please apply the most commonly used visual transmission and codes and attempt to communicate using our orbital lighting. And please have Mr. Khali and Senator Sheridan join us on the bridge so that they may witness this. It might provide illumination for us all."

"Yes, Ma'am." The communication's Officer smiled. Who said that Vulcans didn't have a sense of humor? "Standard hail using Federation visual code four three…they are responding."

On screen, the huge Federation vessel's lights began flashing, just as Dr. Khali and two members of Earth Forces were allowed entry onto the bridge.

"Translating. "_USS Voyager-A NCC-74656_, a_Sovereign_-class Federation Starship. Admiral Kathryn Janeway onboard, Captain Chakotay commanding. They are asking, how is it that we're using this corridor.

"Transmit this message," the Captain ordered. "We discovered and have been using this passage for almost nine months. Why are they accompanied by a captured enemy warship towards Earth?"

"Response Captain. They are saying … We are at peace with the Klingon Empire for the last seven years. It is obvious that you are from a different reality and possibly temporal location. May we ask why you are traveling with Earth Alliance vessels?"

"Fascinating," the Captain of the _Concordat_ said. "Mister Yamada, tie the translator directly to our 'visual' code so that we can achieve voice communication. And please patch our communications to the Earth Alliance ships so that our allies may be aware of our situation."

Khali and Sheridan entered the bridge and were immediately transfixed by the images on the screen of the huge warships and the unmistakable image of a Minbari _Sharlin_.

"Working on it now, Captain." A few moments later, Yamada nodded. The voice would be artificial however communication would be somewhat easier.

"This is Captain T'Lara of the USS _Concordat_, to Admiral Janeway and Captain Chakotay of the USS _Voyager. _ Greetings."

The response came a moment later. "Greetings Captain. It is nice to see a fellow Federation vessel so far from home. I am curious though about your knowledge concerning these passage way. We've only just received knowledge of its existence."

"We have been using it to travel from the Alpha quadrant to Earth Alliance territory sixty nine thousand four hundred seventy-three point three-two light years distance from Federation territory," T'Lara answered. "I must ask you, what is your purpose in traveling with a captured Minbari warship to Earth?"

"_Blood of Saints_ is not a captured ship. We are not at war with the Minbari," said the Admiral, an answer that came as a shock to the crew of the Federation dreadnaught and the warships of Earth Alliance. "We have had a lot of difficulty with Earth Alliance and EarthForce under the leadership of President Morgan Clark. Earth Alliance was under a dictatorship by Clark and EarthForce had standing orders to acquire our technology by any means necessary. There were several disputes between our Starfleet and EarthForce despite our entreaties."

T'lara's eyebrow raised a fraction, characteristic of a surprised Vulcan. "Why would this President Clark attack you ship?"

"He needed the technology to maintain his hold over Earth during the civil war under his regime."

"Civil war? What civil war? Please clarify."

"Captain, can you adjust your subspace transceiver to a high band frequency so that we may have visual." The next few comments contained frequency adjustments and modulation configurations.

"I apologize, Admiral," T'Lara responded. "We are unable to comply. Our transceivers are unable to achieve those frequencies without major modifications."

"Understood. We can modify our transmissions for visual."

"Agreed. However I must point out that any more aggressive forms of communications might destabilize the transit way."

"No, it won't," Janeway said. "As you are no doubt already aware, this conduit is artificial in nature, built by entities called the Preservers. Our present level of technology can't affect it in any way. By our standards, your ship is over one hundred years behind ours and we have barely scratched the surface of what these transit ways are capable of. We are being allowed to use them with the permission of the Preservers. And I am somewhat surprised that you've been allowed to use them."

"These conduits came to our attention by mistake, but it is likely that our assumptions may be in error. My Communication's Officer is configuring the laser transmission systems now. We should have visual momentarily."

"While we wait, I would like to ask you a question," the Admiral said. "You believed that the Minbari was an enemy ship? Why?"

"The Federation and Klingon Empire are at war with The Minbari Federation. The Minbari attacked and destroyed the Regulus colony, exterminating over twenty eight million sentient beings believing it to be an Earth Alliance colony that had been somehow placed in the Alpha quadrant."

There was a small gasp. "But how did the Minbari get to the Alpha quadrant?"

"They arrived via a j-space, conduit not unlike this one. Their plan was to destroy all Humans of Earth Alliance and their colonies."

There was another moment of silence. The screen changed from the image of the vessels to the bridge of _Voyager_. T'Lara stared for a moment, taking in the scenery. There was a Klingon on the ship, dressed in a Federation uniform; surprising to say the least. There was also a Vulcan present, ranked Second Officer. Another officer, with golden skin was at the helm staring back at her and her crew with unusual golden eyes. His species was unfamiliar to her.

"Our arrival into Earth Alliance space occurred long after the Earth Minbari war," Captain Chakotay said. He was staring at the old _Constitution_ styled bridge, as fully functional as the ship preserved in the Fleet Museum, which he had a chance to tour when he was young. "Earth survived the war and became one of the local powers. They developed a plan similar to Earth's UN and placed a space station called _B5_…"

"As in _Becerra Alpha Five_?" asked T'Lara.

"No. The station is called _Babylon Five_. The station was situated in the center of the five major powers as a place for people to come together and discuss their problems, instead of resorting to violence to settle their disputes. For the most part, it worked and is still working. However, three years ago, President Clark with the aid of beings known as the Shadows had President Santiago assassinated and usurped power. He declared martial law and that started a civil war. It split Earth Alliance apart.

Two Federation and one Klingon ship breached that universe and allied themselves with the _Babylon_ station. _Babylon_ Five followed several other colonies in breaking away from Earth Alliance until President Clark's illegal orders of martial law over all of Earth Alliance was rescinded. President Clark took exception to that and after having EarthForce quell the rebellions on the colony worlds, he went after _Babylon Five_. The station resisted and with the help of the Federation and the Minbari the station has remained free and has thrived. Long story short, Earth Alliance and several other governments are attempting to form an alliance for mutual defense and economic stability. The then Captain John Sheridan…"

**-+-**

Khali were reeling as he listened to the discussion. The Professor couldn't believe what he was hearing. Clark would have never, ever had instigated an assassination of President Santiago. And how did Santiago become President in the first place? He was too liberal, too lax to become the head of Earth Alliance. He wasn't strong enough. Clark yes, Santiago, no. Besides Clark was dead, at least the Clark he knew, he thought with a bit of chagrin. So, either this was an elaborate trick put on for his benefit and that of Earth Alliance's, or these people were from another reality, something that he had postulated earlier. The evidence seemed to point strongly in that direction. If it were true then he'd have another series of theories to evaluate. Many theories concerning other timelines and universes had been postulated. But here was possible proof and he would be the first to confirm or deny their existences. He didn't know whether to freeze and absorb every bit of the conversation, or start tap dancing on the bridge. He was going to be so _rich_!

But to those people, the Earth Minbari war was over and President Clark – good for him! – had somehow been duped into a civil war. He needed more information but evidently the Shadows, those spider things, must have set him up, poisoned his mind. Yes, he could see that. But it was the next words from the Federationist Captain that had really caught his attention.

Why would Morgan try to grab the Federation ships? Didn't he understand the power he was dealing with? Earth Alliance had no right to try something like that, which proved that Morgan had been under the influence of the Shadow aliens. He knew evil when he saw it. And it supported his theory. Alien influence was detrimental to Humanity. He had to make sure he wrote this down before he forgot some minor detail.

**-+-**

Ambassador Sheridan was equally shocked. Earth alliance had survived the Minbari war without the aid of the Federation? He wanted to know how, but he remained quiet as more revelations were revealed by these people. In their universe the Federation didn't exist, they came from yet a third universe. However, Clark's manipulations didn't surprise him at all. Senator Clark before his demise had strongly suggested doing the same thing in this universe. But the information of a civil war 'did' surprise him as well as the knowledge that his son, John, was up front leading the charge. The political backlash must have been horrendous. It was a universe full of changes from what he knew. He shook his head ruefully and nearly laughed out loud. A year ago if someone had told him that multiple realities and universes existed, he would have had them fitted for the traditional straightjacket. Now, he didn't even bat an eyelash.

What was also amazing to him was the reaction of the Federation crew and that served to convince him more than anything else that this wasn't some sort of elaborate setup for Earth Alliance's benefit. When he had first came onboard the USS _Excelsior_, the only thing he could think of was that that ship was the wave of the future. The crew of the USS_ Concordat _was doing the exact same thing. This was 'their' wave of the future and it was just as amazing to them as the _Excelsior_ was to Earth Alliance.

_**Becerra Alpha One:**_

"Don't play morality games with me. Make a decision."

Sarek's gaze was as distant and calculating as always. He had spent his life honing his composure to a perfect granite visage unreadable to counterparts during negotiations. Yet inside he was a man, not Human of course, but still flesh and bone. For a long time he had refused to confront the issue of Amanda's mortality. Now it was placed firmly in front of him by this war criminal. She had done her research, she had found the one thing that could be considered a weakness and she was exploiting it ruthlessly. Sarek knew this, he knew it the second she mentioned family. She was trying to elicit an emotional response instead of a common logical one and she was coming damn close to doing so.

Oddly, Sarek found that he wasn't as angry as he should be. He was being played by this woman but that wasn't his primary concern. He couldn't stop thinking about Amanda's death and the possibility that he could postpone or even overcome that fate altogether. He knew on some level this was exactly what Jha'dur wanted, to cloud his logic with emotion, but he simply could not let go.

"This serum," he asked. "Where is it?"

"On my ship," she replied. "Hidden from your scanners, enough for both you, and your wife. Perhaps your son, too."

Sarek stood. "Will you provide the Minbari data?"

"The Federation does not seem interested in my deal." Jha'dur also stood. "I will not, they can find out the hard way. You and I have a new deal, is it accepted?"

Sarek folded his hands before him, his dark robes swirling as he moved. "Follow me to the docking bay."

He opened the door, a triumphant Jha'dur close on his heels and dismissed the guards.

"The negotiations are concluded," he said. "I accept full responsibility for the prisoner, return to your other duties."

"Yes, Sir." The officer replied and took his two guards away back to their duty stations.

"I knew you had your priorities right," the Warmaster stated. "We should take your ship."

"A logical escape plan."

"But first we will retrieve certain items from mine." Jha'dur was walking confidently now, Sarek maintained the same constant pace and poise as always.

"Have you made contact with any other power in the quadrant?" Sarek asked.

"Not yet." She answered. "But based on information I have seen there are a few powers I can approach. They should be more practical than your narrow minded Federation. "Well, I should say, your former masters. Perhaps the Romulans," she grinned.

Sarek didn't speak as he led them down empty corridors avoiding the main transit ways and taking the long route to the docking bay. "The security systems will be aware of us. I estimate thirteen minutes before a senior officers attempts to contact me for a status report."

"We should be long gone by then," Jha'dur accepted. "How well guarded is the warp bridge?"

"My vessel will not be fired upon."

"Even better." She smiled. "Perhaps I will give you information on the Minbari, in exchange for your ship when we pass over the bridge."

"You have this information?"

"Under a secure datalock on my ship."

Sarek opened the doors to the stations primary shuttle bay, a vast hangar that could have squeezed in a Miranda class cruiser. He walked through the doors with Jha'dur in tow then came to a halt.

"I have the co-ordinates for Romulan space and…"

The Warmaster froze as she noticed a dozen armed security personnel stood in front of her flanking a grey haired senior officer. Behind her there was a scuffle of feet as more guards took position at the shuttle bay entrance.

"Ambassador Sarek." The grey haired officer stepped forward. "That was quite a risk to take."

"I believed it was worth it Admiral," the Vulcan replied. "Warmaster Jha'dur would never freely part with the information; however I have learned its approximate location."

The last Dilgar snarled viciously. "You Vulcan son of a…"

The guards raised their side arms before she could get close enough to sink her fingers into Sarek.

"Easy," the Admiral said. "Be a shame to stun you; you'd miss all the fun."

She fought hard to regain her composure. "And you are?"

"Admiral Bennett, Sector commander. I've just been talking to Starfleet Intelligence, turns out you've been sharing conversations with someone in our ranks."

She glared imperiously at Bennett. "I have no need to answer anything."

"No, but it explains how you know so much about Ambassador Sarek's family life," Bennett continued. "Oh, don't worry. We will be answering some serious questions within Starfleet to find your conspirator. Starfleet has a keen sense of justice."

"All men are created equal," Jha'dur grinned scornfully. "Such naivety."

"We are not created equal," Sarek spoke. "That is simple nature. Some are stronger, some more intelligent, some may not even appear sentient at first. But we are all equal under the eyes of the law, be you a common criminal, an Admiral of Starfleet, or a Warmaster."

"I couldn't agree more," a male voice said from the doorway. Jha'dur turned to see, of all people, a Narn squeezing past the security officers. "Well spoken Ambassador, very eloquent."

"A Narn?" Jha'dur scoffed. "The Federation in the habit of keeping pet animals now?"

"Well here is a sight," the Narn said in mild awe. "The last of the Dilgar still living. I have heard a lot about you."

Suddenly Jha'dur placed his face. "G'Tarn isn't it? Yes, I've seen a report on you many years ago. You cut a deal with Earth Alliance during our war."

"Ambassador G'Tarn." Sarek said. "Is everything ready?"

"Indeed it is, we are eager to take delivery and show our quality."

"Delivery of wha…" Jha'dur stopped, a knowing smile crossing her face. "You're going to feed me to the Narns, let them do your dirty work so the perfect Federation can deny killing me. What cowards!"

"You will stand trial under the Narn Regime," Admiral Bennett confirmed. "You have been promised a fair trial. The Narn were neutral in your war."

"They bought neutrality," Jha'dur remarked. "How many millions of tons of munitions did your government sell us exactly, so we could burn the League?"

"Not enough to justify what you did to our people on Hilak," G'Tarn replied coldly.

"They got in my way."

"All of which," Bennett interrupted, "Can be discussed at the trial."

"And you expect I will get a fair trial with those…creatures?" Jha'dur laughed.

"You will," Sarek said. "The Narn have promised."

**EA _Achilles-Day 13_**

Captain John Sheridan gritted his teeth at the sight of a Minbari _Sharlin_ of unknown configuration paralleling his ship and the _Guam_ less than a thousand meters distant. Even with the _Omega's_ size, the _Sharlin_ dwarfed it. The only reason why he hadn't locked on and fired was that he '_couldn't'_ lock on. Like the other two ship, the sensors couldn't see the vessel. Plus there was the fact that the three new ships were out of synch with the _Concordat_ and the _Hyperion_. That was frustrating to say the least; however the good thing was that they were scheduled to exit the passage way in a few hours and then the _Sharlin_ would be blown into atoms by Fed and Klingon defenses. But, as if the planet they'd seen wasn't enough, another surprise was about to slap him and his crew in the face.

"Sir," Communications said. "I'm getting a signal from the Minbari warship!"

"Confirm that," Sheridan ordered. "It's out of phase with our ships."

"I am getting a signal, Sir. It's a laser-linked tachyon transmission," Comms responded, "Shouldn't be working with us out of phase like this."

"Put it through," ordered a very hostile Sheridan.

A large, very imposing Minbari appear on the small screen. The Communications Officer stifled a curse. Others that were able to see the image looked on with distaste. Anthony Wu, Sheridan's First Officer, started cursing under his breath.

The Minbari, arrogant beyond all measure, slowly looked at Captain Sheridan. Then he spoke slowly and very eloquently-in English.

"Greetings Mister President," he said shocking John. "Or should I say, Captain Sheridan." He smiled broadly; irritating the confused the EA crew even more. "It is good to see you Captain, also known in some circles as '_Starkiller'_." At the look of hostility, the Minbari smiled even more. Forgive me, I have not introduced myself. I am Shai Alyt Rannaonn, Captain of the _Blood of Saints._"

"The _Blood of Saints_ was destroyed in Earth's solar system by the USS _Excelsior,_" snapped Sheridan.

That seemed to surprise the Minbari. "The universe indeed has a sense of humor," he mused after a moment.

"What do you want?" Sheridan asked harshly.

At that, Rannaonn smiled even more broadly. "Ah, one of the eternal questions. I am so glad that we've gotten past all of that," he added cryptically. "You look so young without the beard. Captain," he continued, "I've spent many days talking to your counterpart and the Federationists, and despite my reservations, I have found you and your people to be an, if not enlighten species, at least an interesting one. And please calm down Captain. I pose no danger to you or yours. Our war is long over and I have better things to do. Now, to answer your question, 'what do I want'? I want to know how the Federation got into a full war with the Minbari. It makes little sense."

"How do you know about the war with the Federation?" At this Sheridan was highly suspicious and becoming more concerned by the moment.

"The Federation isn't the only Federation with, shall we say, interesting technology," responded the Shai Alyt. "I am traveling with _Voyager_ and the _Azetbur _to their universe as explorers and ambassadors, to participate in an exchange of technologies. Our histories are apparently different. Instead of being at one another's throats, Earth Alliance, and the Minbari Federation are preparing to battle a common enemy. The Centauri have joined us." There was joy in his face as he watched Sheridan change colors with each sentence. "The Narn and other races are joining together for essentially the same purpose. Captain, the universe is darker than any of us imagined. Our petty conflicts seem insignificant compared to this new enemy threatening to consume us all."

That was a lot to digest for the Captain. Here was a Minbari, first of all speaking to Humans as if it were the most common occurrence in the world. Then he him 'Mister President', not simply Captain. The Minbari, working with Humanity? It was more than strange and a bit frightening. But this Minbari was a talkative sort and he wasn't one that would pass up the opportunity to get as much info as he could. Even if this Minbari wasn't at war with them, he still had lots of valuable information that could be useful in the current war.

"Shai Alyt Rannaonn, how is it that your ship is here? _Blood of Saints_ was destroyed."

"So you've said. In my reality, the Minbari were certainly not friends to the Federation Starfleeter, but not enemies either. There were certain jealousies," he espoused, smirking as he did so since he was one of those Minbari who had a jealous streak against the Starfleeters of his universe. "The Federation possessed technology equal to and more advanced than our own, although we at first refused to believe it. When we finally began to acknowledge that, I personally tried to take one of the Federation ships for its technology. We needed it to help fight against '_them'_. And I wanted to prove to everyone that the Minbari were superior and should be recognized as such." He seemed embarrassed by that admission. "I was challenged by the _Ambassador_, a larger and more advanced version of the ship you're traveling with. It was an affair of honor, to be used to keep our people from going to war. If I had won then the Federation technology would have been mine for the taking." He smiled as the possibly future President shivered at the thought. "If I failed, then my ship would have been Captain Garrett's.

"I lost," he explained. "'Didn't have a chance', as she said. "She didn't want '_Blood of Saints_, but instead demanded that I become her footservant." He looked at Captain Sheridan and his crew. "You Humans are some truly evil creatures," he said in all seriousness. Then he started laughing.

Sheridan stared in utter disbelief at the laughing Minbari. This entire conversation was surreal. "You're Minbari," he said. "And you allowed yourself to be a slave to a Human?"

"She's a very dynamic woman," he responded matter-of-factly. "I should have killed myself rather than lower myself to such an indignity, but then I would have learned nothing. It seems that my counterpart repeated my folly and paid for it with his ship and his life. I survived and am now an Ambassador to the Federation. As I've said, the universe is full of irony and a curious sense of humor."

Sheridan didn't know what to say, but the Shai Alyt was still very talkative.

"To tell you of your counterpart's history I believe would hurt you at this point in your life," Rannaonn said. "However I will say that your counterpart and **Entil'zha**Jeffery Sinclair have done great things for your people and mine. May you do the same in your universe."

Sheridan simply stared. "What?"

The Shai Alyt smile vanished and his face became grim. "Beware the Vorlons. They are not what they seem and they will destroy you all to preserve their precious circle. If their circle fails, they will destroy everything like children who have temper tantrums and smash their toys against the walls. We believed them to be our friends. We were wrong." His face had turned into a mass of fury, enough so that the crew onboard the _Achilles_ staring back at him actually flinched. "You asked me what I wanted. I am asking that you have mercy on a people that would not be merciful to you. I am asking that the Minbari of your universe not be exterminated. If they are being advised by the Vorlons, then they will fight until there is nothing left. Sheridan, find a way to allow at least some of them to live. You will find that Delenn is worthy." He smiled a bit. "I am sending you a transmission of our knowledge of the Vorlons of my universe. May it serve you well. "And," he mused, "I believe I will send you a private transmission and one for Sinclair. Read it; destroy it, it is as you choose. May you both live in interesting times," he finished, quoting from his first true Human friend, Rachel Garrett, Captain of the USS _Ambassador_, who quoted that same thing to him so often.

He smiled broadly, nodded with respect and closed the visual channel.

"Did you believe any of that crap?" his First Officer asked after a few moments.

Sheridan was quiet. "I don't know," he said a heartbeat later. "Let me see information that was transmitted. He spent a few minutes reading it. Vorlon history and interaction of that universe had just been laid bare.

Peering over his shoulder Anthony Wu studied the information. "What a load of bull," he whispered. His voice carried its usual swagger, but there was an underlining of uncertainty in the way he said it. "You're President of an Interstellar alliance, less than twenty years into the future?"

The Captain merely shook his head in shock. "Keep your voice down. We need to keep this quiet."

"You realize that once this gets out, you'll be on the political 'hit list'. Every politician in Earth Alliance will be gunning for you, for something you haven't done yet. Even Psi-Corps may want a piece of you, just in case," he whispered in all seriousness. "Everyone who doesn't want to kill you will want to control you."

Without a word, Sheridan turned and sat in the Captain's chair. He'd read the private transmission later. His life had just turned supremely complicated and it was going to take some time to absorb it. But before he did so he had a duty to perform.

"Have Captain Jeffery Sinclair come to the bridge," he ordered

_**Becerra Alpha One:**_

"You will," Sarek said. "The Narn have promised."

"It will show us for who we truly are," G'Tarn added. "At heart we are a noble people, fair and contemplative. Our circumstances made us do what we can to survive, but thanks to the Federation we can return to what we were."

"The Federation?" Jha'dur was puzzled.

"The Council has offered to help restore the Narn homeworld to the agrarian planet it once was." Sarek stated.

"To repair the damage caused by the Centauri," G'Tarn beamed. "To provide us certain technologies to let us prosper and become the people G'Quan wanted us to become."

"But only if they can prove they will honour our treaty," Bennett stated. "And the test for that is going to be 'you'."

"If they can act fairly with such a hateful and reviled criminal as you, then it will show a level of integrity that will assure the Federation council," Sarek said. "You will be the instrument through which Narn is restored."

"I always thought the universe had a sense of irony," the Ambassador remarked.

"And when I am inevitably found guilty, then what?" Jha'dur stared daggers at Sarek.

"You will be imprisoned," he pronounced. "The Narn have agreed to honour Federation law as we were the ones who apprehended and extradited you."

"Imprisoned?" she snapped. "A caged animal in a Narn jail!"

"Until you die of natural causes," Sarek announced, "That, because of your health, could be a very, very long time."

"You lied to me!"

"Vulcans do not lie."

"We had a deal!"

"I accepted no such deal. You merely fooled yourself into believing I had."

"What about Amanda?" Jha'dur spat. "I am the only one who can save her!"

Sarek shook his head. "Your drug would damn her and me for accepting it. To live at the cost of others is too high a price. It may save her life, but it would kill her soul."

Jha'dur bared her teeth in a cold smile. "Remember that when she dies in your powerless arms."

"I will be thinking of nothing else," he answered honestly. "The needs of the many…"

"Mean nothing to me," Jha'dur said coldly. "I'll be seeing you in hell."

"Alright, Chief," Bennett waved a security part forward. "Take her away."

Jha'dur did not try to resist. "This is not over."

"It's just beginning," Admiral Bennett agreed. "Hope you enjoy your stay in prison-wherever it may be."

"You should kill me now and save yourself trouble in the future!"

"That would be too easy. You're going to make amends for what you have done."

"You're confusing me with someone who cares."

"Well we'll just have to wait and see if you still have that attitude after years in a Narn jail cell."

The guards began cuffing her.

"You could have given so much to the galaxy," Sarek lamented. "Such a waste of talent."

"Call me a monster if it makes you feel better. Pretend you could never do what we did, but we both know you have that capacity. Vulcans, Humans, Andorians, all of you. Faced with my situation, you would do the same thing. You would become us."

Bennett turned to G'Tarn. "Get her off my station."

The Narn smiled and the guards began to lead her away.

"Play your games!" she called. "Pretend you are civilised, one big happy Fleet! But we all know it's just a veneer! Beneath all that you are no better than the Minbari or my people! You play each other! A battle for dominance between Humans and Vulcans! Puppets and puppeteers!"

"I hope she's not like this on the journey home," G'Tarn huffed. "My senses can only endure so much ranting."

"I look forward to seeing the trial." Admiral Bennett shook hands. "And an open and honest relation between the Federation and the Narn."

"As do I, farewell Admiral." G'Tarn seemed preoccupied as he turned to follow the prisoner.

Ambassador G'Tarn, is there something wrong?"

The Narn turned. "Oh, no," he said. "There is nothing wrong." He stared at the Admiral for a moment who waited and invited him to continue. "Several of my superiors, although grateful for this opportunity to prove ourselves are somewhat concerned by the presence of that monster on our planet. There are many people that would be most happy to dispense justice as quickly as possible and it is feared that Narn might become a target in the dispensing of that judgement." He turned and walked away, following the prisoner.

So silent was Sarek, Admiral Bennett barely heard him sidle up beside him as Jha'dur was escorted away. "Do you believe they will hold her fairly?" he asked simply.

"I think the Narn know a good thing when they see it." Bennett nodded. "They aren't going to want to blow this, which is why I am thinking about keeping her here, in our care, as opposed to sending her to Narn. Ambassador G'Tarn is correct. Governments from all over the sector would love to kill her, and the Minbari will most certainly want to keep her from talking. They may well attack Narn to do so."

"I will arrange an appropriate judging body and location." Sarek continued. "This provides ample opportunity for us to show another side of the Federation to the worlds of this sector."

"And see justice done." Bennett added.

"Indeed." The Vulcan nodded slowly. "The data she took is in a hidden compartment shielded from scanners in her ship."

"Should provide some useful pointers for Starfleet Intelligence."

"It should. If you don't mind Admiral I will retire, this has been a draining exchange."

"Of course Ambassador. Can I get you an escort?"

"No Admiral, I can find my way."

Yes, Ambassador. I will inform G'Tarn of a change in plans. They can prosecute, and even supply their own security for political sake, but for all concerned, I will have Jha'dur remain on the station. I don't want her here but we may not have any choice. I don't think G'Tarn will complain too much because we're both looking out for his world's interest. And he did hint as such."

Sarek clasped his fingers and bowed formally, a sentiment Bennett acknowledged with a long bow of the head, then the black robed figure turned and began his walk back to his quarters.

As Bennett observed him the years seemed to have piled up on the Vulcan. He did look old and even frail if not in body then in his soul if such a thing were tangible. He knew Sarek had been tempted, and whatever this Dilgar had offered must have been powerful. From Kirk's report she had an unerring ability to seek out weaknesses in even the strongest hearts. Sarek looked like he had attended a funeral. Perhaps in a way he had. He could guess at what she had said to Sarek, and what he had given up to fulfil the plan. He also was uncertain if in the same place he would have been so unwavering.

"Alright Lieutenant, break out the hand scanners." Bennett waved over a nearby officer. "We'll go over this ship an inch at a time until we find something."

He moved out of the way to allow his people to do their jobs. As for him, he had a spy to catch.

**-+-**

Sarek disappeared out of the bay leaving the Starfleet personnel to their work, he had considered the possibility that Jha'dur had lied but ultimately reasoned she would not have taken the risk without some insurance. The data was there somewhere.

He noted with some surprise a small droplet of water on his cheek, a tear. He wiped away the droplet with a frown, then continued to his quarters.

Far too Human.

'_The needs of the one must not outweigh the needs of the many',_ he thought as the door closed behind him.

**_Concordat_ Bridge_-Day 13_**

Dr. Khali somewhat relaxed now, sat in the starship's lounge staring out of the port windows, (huge by his standards anyway) sipping one of the more exotic drinks that everyone else seemed to be drinking at the time. It had a very mild stimulant and it made his head buzz a bit, but its taste wasn't unpleasant by any means. Not that he needed a buzz after what he'd seen today. The talks with the others had lasted for at least two hours and afterwards, he had ran to his room, ignoring Ambassador Sheridan completely in his need to get everything down before he lost a part of it. Photographic memory notwithstanding, he had to record his impressions of what he overheard.

Interstellar Alliance.

Friends with the Minbari after a war similar to what his people were now experiencing. And surviving without the help of the Federation and their cohorts, amazing.

An Earth Alliance civil war with those spider creatures being behind it all. There was so much!

But it was what he didn't hear that intrigued him almost to the point of madness. The Federation Admiral has specifically said that she could not give them any information on advanced technology-as if they needed it! - But then, she changed her mind! And she proceeded to try to overload the ship's data banks with information!

Why? It really was strange as to why the other ship didn't want to share their technology at first. But these people were strange in the first place.

Were they that afraid of Earth Alliance of their universe? That thought made him smile a bit. But as he thought more about it, it made him frown. If he followed that train of thought, the EA wherever they came from had to be more advanced his Earth Alliance, but apparently those Starfleeters had superior tech sufficient to stop that EA in its tracks. It would be nice to try to contact them one day, do comparisons. If this passageway had the capability of multidimensional travel, the possibilities would be infinite. But were any of them, the Federation or Earth Alliance mature enough to begin that type of exploration?

He didn't believe so.

"A penny for your thoughts, Doctor."

He didn't bother looking away from the window. "Hello Mr. Bester. Nice joke by the way."

The young Psi-Cop smiled, but it didn't seem to reach his eyes. "It seemed appropriate. Is 'our friend' still out there?"

Khali nodded. "It's keeping pace with us. It should be interesting to see what happens when we enter normal space."

"Yes it will." Alfred Bester, a Psi-cop took a chair next to the doctor and sat as well as did his partner Roberta Yang. "Did they try to communicate?"

"I don't think so," he answered. "The Captain kicked me off the bridge as soon as the Klingon ship asked that she carry a message to the Klingon Empire. I do know that they were not at war with the Minbari, but somebody else. I wish I could have found out more information. We needed to know what they had to say." He took a sip. "You don't look well, Mister Bester."

"It's nothing," the telepath dismissed. "A little bit of space sickness, I think. I'm used to no gravity, or centrifugal nausea, bouncing around in hyperspace, lousy food. This ship is too comfortable. I feel like throwing up."

Khali laughed. "Seriously, I understand your pain. This ship is so, so alien yet familiar. It keeps me off balance."

Bester merely looked out the window. The problem wasn't space sickness; it was the transit way itself. His telepathy was almost completely dulled. Unlike hyperspace which enhanced his telepathy, this place did just the opposite. He and the other telepaths felt as if they had been crippled. The sense was still there but it was almost impossible to access it. It was like trying to see during a partial eclipse; the light just wasn't there no matter hard the eyes tried adjust.

The transition into normal space came as a sudden surprise. All three of them saw the tearing from one existence into another. The three other ships disappeared with a small flash.

Khali and Roberta jumped out of their seats, staring out the window trying to see where the other ships had gone. But there was nothing, only the presence of dozens of Federation and Klingon vessels as far as their eyes could see.

Bester almost laughed. His telepathy had come back as if it had never left and once more he felt his connection with Yang, something that Khali had noticed.

"Feeling better?"

"Absolutely."

"I am so glad for you, Mister Bester." From that moment on, he forgot about the telepath. He didn't want to miss anything. He wanted to see the solar system that claimed to resemble Earth's, his Earth's system.

Bester didn't care. He wanted to see the same thing.

Throughout the ship, Earth Alliance and their alien counterparts gathered near the windows to see. The Captain, aware of this, ordered a slow entry into the system. The ship flew past Neptune and Saturn as it headed towards Jupiter.

The _Concordat_ edged past Jupiter at a speed slow enough for everyone to see.

"My god," Bester whispered. The planet '_looked'_ like Jupiter. The giant red spot was there; even the signs of the comet impacts that happened in the late 1900's. What was it called, Shoemaker-Levite, Levy? The name was something like that. He couldn't remember off-hand.

Dr. Khali stared at the asteroid belt and soon saw what he knew was Mars. But it wasn't his Mars, not by the wildest stretch of his imagination. The planet had all of the characteristics of his Mars but it was far more colonized and it was green over huge portions of its surface! He half-listened as one of the Starfleet crewmen mentioned to the Narn G'Kar, that there were artificial satellites providing sunlight and heat for the planet's biosphere. The planet had been terraformed, complete with full atmosphere and water. Evidently there were huge fresh water lakes and small inland seas with fish and other life forms slowly being introduced.**The ice caps were notably smaller because of the terraforming efforts which generated a green-house-effect for warmth and supplying water to the planet. Even more impressive for the observers were the lights of cities on Mars' night side. Incredibly large cities e cities not protected by domes were seen as was a small but impressive storm. On EA Mar, a few small cities were protected by domes or hidden underground. **

The Narn was smiling almost hysterically and it didn't take much imagination to see what he was thinking about. The Centauri ambassador, Londo was busy trying to drink himself to death as he alternately stared through the window and at the Narn who studiously avoided his gaze.

Earth's moon-their moon, looking like the real Earth's moon no less! - swept by. It was covered by cities all over the dark side. The same thing could be seen across the sun side of the lunar surface. It was packed with life!

Alfred Bester and his companion were suitably impressed as they watched the scores of ships passing by within the system. They, like Khali knew what was in store but it didn't really connect with them until they saw it with their own eyes. It wasn't an illusion. It was completely real. A world, identical to their own, but so different slowly came into view. Billions of mundanes lived their lives down there, without a clue as to what life was really like. It was reported that this world had only a few telepathic Humans around; therefore contacting them should be relatively easy. If they could be convinced to join the Corps, so much the better. But convincing the teeps wasn't Besters or Yang's job. They were merely there to handle security.

First contact with the teeps here fell to the responsibility of Arati Mehta, PsiCorps representative for this mission, although they would most certainly help. They needed to see how these people thought of their positions in society first hand. If this place was anything like their planet, then the persecution had to be tremendous. They very likely needed support by others of their kind. But that remained nothing but abstract speculation until they landed on this Earth and determined the conditions. Then, the other human-like telepaths might well be receptive in establishing rights as telepaths as well. Being feared and hated was something they could all relate to.

**-+-**

The passengers got a first hand view of Earth as the _Concordat_ orbited the planet once before heading towards one of three stations that looked eerily similar to _Becerra_ _Alpha One_, only smaller in size. Any lingering doubts by Earth Alliance members and aliens concerning whether these Federation Humans were indeed colonists evaporated by the time the starship entered the star base. Slowly, the ship eased into its berth as if parking was the most natural thing in the world.

The passengers exited the ship brimming with excitement and in some cases trepidation. Khali was busy talking to Ambassador Sheridan who seemed polite but relatively disinterested in anything the doctor had to say at the time. He was far more interested watching the _Achilles _and _Guam_ being through the station doors with such precision. He almost forgot about Khali until he said…

"…I still find it hard to believe that this world, this system, looks so much like the original. It's no wonder that these people believe this planet isn't a copy. I see it's going to take some time to persuade them of this error."

As for Sheridan, he wasn't sure of anything at this point. His entire thought process had been turned upside down. It was then that the Federation reporters gathered outside asked him the question shocked him.

"How do you feel about the Earth Alliance telepaths asking for political asylum? And why is it they fled from Earth Alliance to make the dangerous journey here?"

The Ambassador was at a loss of words.

Arati wasn't. "What did you say," she asked, stunned by this development. She wasn't happy about that revelation at all and it showed.

Next to her, Bester's and Yang's anger and concern began to grow.


	5. Chapter 5

**The Minbari rout at Jericho**

Shai Alyt Haran pulled himself off of the deck. The entire bridge was little more than unidentifiable wreckage, a testament to Minbari engineering that his unshielded vessel had even survived such an attack. Superior engineering or not, his bridge crew had been chewed up, most of them were dead or severely injured. Shattered instrumentation was thrown everywhere. The 3-D viewer flickered. A second later, there was a noise followed by a deep rumble as main power died. Secondary power activated and fed a bit of energy to the screen. The survivors scramble around trying to determine the extent of the damage and maintain what little life support was left.

Behind him there was a gurgled groan as one of his warriors slowly drowned in her own blood. There was nothing he could do but watch as the crew member died in front of his eyes. The hissing sound that slowly grew louder indicated that the hull was breeched, but he didn't care. His eyes were glued onto the screen dazed at the numbers of Minbari ships of all types, floating in front him. Many ships smoldered, as metal, heated to the temperature of plasma slowly cooled in the emptiness of space. A year ago, if someone had told him that the Minbari would be slaughtered with such ease, he would have thought them mad. Now, all he could do was to wait for death at the hands of the Humans.

"Have we any weapons?" he screamed. Surprisingly someone answered.

"Main weapons are off line," someone from engineering responded. "We have enough power for a few short bursts. Our missiles have been expended. Life support is threatening to fail throughout the ship. One of the fusion power plants is going critical. We can't stop it. It must be ejected. The singularity power is unstable. We must abandon ship."

"There's no where to go," he replied. "If we cannot win, then we will show them what it means to die as Minbari. Overload the engines and prepare for ramming speed. To all ships prepare for self destruction. We will not allow these creatures the…"

"_To all ships, this is Shai Alyt Takkal. Ignore those orders. I am giving the order to surrender. Your deaths will not honor what has been done this day."_

"No!" Haran bellowed to communications. "Ignore that coward. We are Star Riders! Wind swords! We bow to no one!"

"Shai Alyt," his communications crewperson said. "The other ships are powering down. They're surrendering!"

Engineering broke in. The warrior speaking was exhausted. "We've stabilized the singularity, but we don't know for how long. We can jump, or we can make our stand here. What are your orders?"

"My orders stand," Haran replied.

"_The night is long,"_ Takkal said. _"Death is forever. Do not destroy what's left of your crew. Live. Our time will come again."_

There is no honor in surrendering," to these animals.

"_Honor is not served by being the instrument of slaughter for our own people. This is over for us. I will not be the one who explains to the universe why I brought my people to become one with it before their times simply because of pride."_

"I'd rather die."

"_Do what you must, but do not force those under your command to follow your example."_

**USS **_**Sumatra**_

"All ships accounted for and standing by for orders, Admiral. We're ready for our next attack run."

"Admiral to fleet command. Use photon torpedoes only. I will not waste any more lives of my crew in a direct assault."

"Acknowledgement across the board, Admiral."

"Good," she said. Tricobalt would be even more effective in this type of attack, as the Admiral was well aware of. However, the effect in hyperspace by the warheads gave her pause to reconsider using them en mass. Because of that reasoning, she preferred not to use it now, even while in normal space until its effects were known and better understood.

"Admiral!"

The crew watched in shock as one ship generated a jump point. Instead of the crisp, clear funnel shape characteristic of a normal opening, this one was distorted. The rim of the jump point shimmered violently and changed colors as the aftereffects of the tricobalt still interacted with j-space. Ships near the jump point rocked violently and a couple of them in close proximity to the event exploded

"They couldn't be that stupid!" the navigator, an Atosian said out loud, shock at what he was seeing.

Ships and debris were either pushed away or dissolved by the distortional energy. The lone ship that entered was pulled uncontrollably into the vortex. The jump point abruptly closed in a manner that reminded one of an explosion more than anything else. For a few seconds afterwards there was a borealis effect saturating local space. The Admiral and other senior officers watched the scene in sadness and anger. Whoever decided to jump had no regard for the others of their fleet who had just been sacrificed in order to make good their escape. If the survivors chose not to surrender then she would honor their request. "All ships, fire on my command," she ordered.

"Admiral, we're receiving communications, tachyon-based. It's the Minbari."

"What do they have to say?"

"They're surrendering, unconditionally, Ma'am."

The Admiral, known throughout Starfleet for her coldness, smiled.

**"Jericho's Aftermath-Dark Territory"**

**Chapter 5 of ATV-Supplements **

In the ruddy murk of hyperspace, a _Sharlin_ warcruiser tumbled aimlessly and slowly. On board, Shai Alyt Haran thought he was having difficulty breathing. That meant one thing: the recyclers were running down. It was then that the full horror of it all hit him.

They were going to die out here.

The Minbari on the _Shaidar_ were of the Warrior Caste and as such, expected to die as warriors. They certainly didn't expect to die of hunger, thirst or suffocation. But that was exactly what was going to happen. The food stores would run out eventually even if they rationed it carefully. The water could only last so long with the recyclers and rationing. The same was true for the air.

The warriors who died in battle back at Jericho were lucky. Haran hesitated to call the warriors who died of vacuum exposition in hyperspace lucky. Spacing, no matter in normal space or hyperspace, was a most horrific way to die. Unless they did something, the _Shaidar_ would soon become a ship of ghosts forever voyaging in hyperspace, never to be known by other Minbari again.

Haran had learned that they were nearing one of the larger gravity echoes. This meant there was a star or planet outside of hyperspace. Any star system would serve if they could replenish their stocks and take their bearings, however remote that chance was.

He turned to his Rii. "Engine status?"

"Repairs are still ongoing, Shai Alyt." The warrior watched her commander with respectful concern.

Haran sighed slowly, feeling his contamination of the precious air. Ritual suicide could be done but no other Minbari would ever know this and the _Shaidar's_ crew would never be honored this way. Death didn't hold terrors for Haran or his fellow warriors. How could it when joining with the Oversoul and eventual reincarnation was the fate of every Minbari? It was only the manners of death that Haran didn't want.

Starvation. Thirst. Suffocation. Spacing.

To make matters worse, they were lost. The UFOper warheads had damaged the engines and when the _Shaidar_ fled into hyperspace, the remaining side-effects of the warheads threw it far off the jump routes so that even the beacons were lost to them.

If only they could die in battle.

_Did they all die the moment the Ancient Enemy lured the UFOpers into the war and they didn't know it?_ Haran wondered. He shivered. He didn't like the thought. _Dead Minbari walking._

A squawk sounded over the communicators at the rii's station. The warrior turned to Haran with excited hope. "Shai Alyt! They've restored the jumpengines!"

Haran was jolted into action by the news. "Jump!" It didn't matter where they would come out, only that they be out of hyperspace and take their bearings. If they came out inside a star, so be it.

_Duty is heavier than a mountain, Death is lighter than a feather._

A vortex formed in front of the slowly tumbling warcruiser. It formed more slowly than usual and electrical discharges appeared to be arcing throughout the vortex, making it appear unstable. But form it did. The _Shaidar_ was seized by the jumppoint's mysterious properties and it was swallowed and slung out into normal space.

Haran looked at the holodisplay. They had come out in orbit of a planet. A thin coating of blue atmosphere, complete with clouds, protected the muddy-looking surface from the vacuum of space. "What kind of planet is that?"

The command center's crew worked to answer the simple, but important, question. Their survival depended on the answer.

One of them found it. "The planet's atmosphere is nitrogen-oxygen, though the oxygen is lower than what we're used to. Organic molecular spectra. Water." She looked up, visibly excited. "We're saved!"

Haran smiled out of relief. Perhaps the universe still found favor in the Minbari after all.

-+-

"_Omet'igal to all fighters."_ The voice of the commander of the squadron of attack ships droned out of the com system. _"New orders. Set course for the Yaderan System. We are to crush the Zalimun fleet at Yadera Prime."_

Etana'kan nodded to his attack ship's pilot who set the new course on cue. Through the eye-piece of his virtual display device, he could see the other ships in the fleet. Scarab-shaped attack ships outnumbered the larger cruisers with their distinctive X-shaped hull. Grunting with satisfaction at the sight, the warrior paced around the bridge until he was face to face with a man who was not of his race.

"What are the Yaderans?"

The pale yellow-skinned male alien tossed his flowing black hair. "What, not who?" The alien got no reply from the gray-skinned reptilian-looking soldier who had horns arranged in a row on his jaw-line and around his crown. He rolled his eyes at the warrior's laconic military attitude and wiped imaginary dust off of his red uniform. "The Yaderans are a neutral race. At least, they have been neutral in the war between the Drai Republic and the Zalimun Empire. I doubt that they would be willing to change that by supporting the Zalimuns now that we are allied with the Dominion."

The Jem'Hadar gave a short curt nod and moved on to another Jem'Hadar manning one of the consoles. "Status report," barked Etana'kan.

"No change, First," replied the Second.

The First grunted his satisfaction. He glanced at the Drai man watching it all.

"Can I make an observation, First?"

"You can, Second."

"We have served together in battle many months now. We have been victorious. Why do we have that Drai onboard?"

"Ours is to obey the Founders. We do not know this area of space. The Founders had not seen fit to order any scouting in this direction. The Drai Republic has benefited us with guides and navigators. That only adds to the glory of the Founders."

The Second, however, was still suspicious. "Perhaps the Drai are using Yadera Prime as a trap. I will scan."

"No, that will not be necessary."

The Second nodded. "You are my First and I will obey."

The com system spoke once more. _"Omet'igal to all fighters. We have detected a spatial anomaly at Yadera II. Change course to intercept."_ On cue, the pilot corrected their flight pattern as the three Jem'Hadar attack ships formed a V and sped toward the anomaly, departing a larger Dominion fleet made up of attack ships and cruisers. Etana'kan turned his head toward his ship's stern, watching the fleet shrink to nothingness in his virtual display device.

A Vorta male entered the bridge, wearing a copy of Etana'kan's eye-piece. "First, why have we changed course? We're supposed to stay with the fleet!"

Etana'kan barely managed not to grimace at the arrival because the Vorta were the voice of the Founders, their gods. "We've detected an anomaly at Yadera II. It could be because of the Zalimun."

The Vorta nodded pensively. "Sensible. We don't want to be caught in a trap." He turned to the Drai, arrogantly dismissing the Jem'Hadar, causing Etana'kan to grimace at him this time. "The Founders have approved your government's request."

For the first time, the yellow-skinned alien looked delighted. "Finally! The Tosk will be worthy of themselves and of our Hunters. Thank you, Sejeel."

Sejeel bowed smoothly. "It pleases the Founders to deepen the alliance between the Dominion and the Drai Republic."

"You know, Sejeel, I've been curious about something. Why hasn't the Dominion scouted spinward? It had the time and resources to do it."

If a person got a god's-eye view of the top of the galaxy, he would notice that the galaxy appeared to be spinning clockwise, throwing its arms out like spinning water. So the clockwise is spinward while anti-clockwise is anti-spinward, And that person would also notice that almost 22,000 lightyears to the "east" of the Dominion and in another arm closer to the galactic core, the Vorlons had their empire and sphere of influence.

Totally unaware of the above, Sejeel smiled as if to soothe the Drai's non-existent worries. "The Dominion does not feel the need to explore in that direction. Only enough to satisfy our safety."

"But you've expanded in that direction…toward us."

"Only when implacable enemies force us. Like the Zalimuns are forcing us."

The Drai shrugged. "It's too bad that the Dominion has neglected expansion in our direction over the centuries. Otherwise, this damnable war with the Zalimuns wouldn't have happened."

For the first time, Sejeel frowned. But it was quickly erased as the Vorta's diplomatic instincts strode to the fore with a ready smile of friendship. "It is the will of the Founders. The Founders move in mysterious ways and we can only revel in them."

The Drai rolled his eyes at what sounded to him like a quote. "I wonder what the Founders worship."

The Vorta scoffed dismissively. "Impossible. Gods do not worship other gods."

The Third spoke up, interrupting the discussion occurring in the midst of the silent Jem'Hadar. "The sensors are detecting a vessel at the coordinates."

Both Sejeel and the Drai went over to the Third's console and checked the readings. The Vorta looked up at the Drai, his question unspoken but obvious.

"The shape of it is unknown to us."

"As it is to the Dominion. We need to know it." Sejeel nodded to Etana'kan. "Deal with the situation, First."

Etana'kan nodded his obedience and turned to his task.

-+-

**Part 2**

Haran was delighted when the news came that weapons and shields were back online, thanks to the repairs. The jump engines, however, were another story. That last jump had knocked them offline again. However, he was confident of its restoration.

Even if they were able to jump, where could they go? The Shaidar's navigator had determined that they were in an unknown part of the galaxy, likely far away from the stars known to the Minbari Federation. The strange properties of the UFOPers warheads in hyperspace had twisted the currents so much that they knocked out many of the war cruiser's systems and pushed it very far. She and her team were now analyzing the visible pulsars of the galaxy, hoping to identify the known ones with their frequencies and use them to triangulate the approximate positions of the Shaidar and of Minbar. Once they were calculated, the ship could make its way home.

The jumps that the ship would take had to be short because there were no beacons in this area of the galaxy, at least anything that could be recognized as a jump beacon. Each time they jumped out into normal space, the navigation team would have to make their triangulations all over again to make sure they remained on course. The voyage would be slow and long, possibly dangerous, taking many months or even years. They would be, in essence, treading where no Minbari had ever gone before.

The sooner they get home, the sooner they would join in the resisting the onslaught of Darkness. The thought that the Shaidar's crew would settle on some suitable planet and forget about the war simply never occurred to them. For them, duty was heavier than a mountain, death was lighter than a feather.

One of the command center warriors looked up, alarmed. "Shai Alyt, the scanners are detecting incoming ships. They're…using continuum distorters."

Haran's face darkened at the news. The only people to use distorters to travel were the UFOPers and their animals. The Ancient Enemy has done their work too well. The UFOPers were everywhere. They couldn't avoid them. Or was it just that they've accidentally stumbled into UFOP space itself?

However, he was delighted. This gave him and his crew the chance to die in battle as warriors should.

"How many?"

"Three."

"Activate the shields and power up all weapons. Launch all available fighters."

The Minbari warriors went smoothly into action, a form of action for which they were bred and trained. Haran still wondered. He'd heard of how outnumbered the UFOPers were in other battles and yet they won. He has learned of it to his sorrow at Jericho. This time, he was outnumbered by the UFOPers. Very well. They will make a good accounting of themselves for the Light. Duty is heavier than a mountain, Death is lighter than a feather.

They watched as three bright white flashes appeared and faded. One by one, three small and flat vessels slipped out of the signature distortion flashes and slowed to a halt before the _Sharlin_ war cruiser and her _Nial_ fighters.

Haran was puzzled. These vessels were nothing like any of those used by the UFOPers and their animals so far in the war. They made him think of insects that scrabbled in the sand. They had distortion nacelles that glowed purple, instead of the UFOPers blue. Another servant race of the Vulcans? Those Romulans he had been hearing about? One of the minor powers cowering in the shadow of the Federation?

"Rii Larann, contact them."

-+-

Etana'kan was about to issue orders for his fighter squadron to form up against the unknown alien. He could see it through his eye-piece. The ship was huge and looked aquatic. Small blue crystalline vessels were swarming out of it. They looked like darts going backward. They had to be the alien's version of fighters. Were they new allies of the Zalimun Empire? Were they new visitors to this sector of space? Clearly, they were prepared to do battle. That only made Etana'kan happy.

Suddenly, the hailing light blipped on the Second's panel. The Second and Etana'kan exchanged concerned glances. "The enemy is hailing us," announced Etana'kan, knowing that the Vorta covered diplomatic functions.

"Project to my eye-piece, First," ordered Sejeel.

Through the virtual display device, the Vorta could see what appeared to be a bald Humanoid with a spiky headbone structure on the back and sides of the head. If Sejeel didn't know better, the alien could have been a member of a species that was a distant cousin to the Jem'Hadar.

The alien appeared to be cautious, even wary or suspicious.

"_I am Haran of the Star Riders clan of the Warrior Caste."_ Haran drew himself up proudly._ "I am Minbari. Who are you?"_

The Vorta bowed his head indulgently, hands open with palm facing the Minbari to show peace and respect. "Sejeel at your pleasure. You have violated space allied with the Dominion. Please explain why."

The Minbari commander appeared surprised that Sejeel wasn't familiar with the Minbari. Should he be? He was still suspicious. _"Space allied with…you? Who?"_

"An ally of the Dominion." Sejeel refused to give information to the alien. He wondered why the alien didn't react to the emphasis he made in the name 'Dominion' for the second time. Everyone knew the Dominion. Could it be that the Minbari came from very far away? Very far in the direction that the Founders were apparently not interested in? Sejeel remembered his conversation with the Drai guide. Though he had faith in his gods, he wondered why the Founders were so disinterested in sectors that clearly and desperately needed the order of the Dominion. "You have not explained your presence."

"_We…came looking. We don't know your Dominion. Answer me this: who do you fight for?"_

"The Founders, of course."

"_Not the UFOPers?"_

"I honestly do not know these 'UFOPers.' Are your people experiencing chaos?"

Haran gritted his teeth. Aha, a sensitive point. _"The Light is all! The Light shall burn all before us! Order shall prevail!"_

Interesting. So the Minbari were at war. A holy war, by the sound of it. Definitely not an orderly species. "Ah, so you have gods, like us." Sejeel thought it was important to establishment common points. If this went well, he might know more about parts of the galaxy even though the Founders weren't interested in them.

But Haran appeared insulted. _"We do not have gods! We follow the Vorlons and they will cleanse the galaxy of its darkness and chaos! Oh yes, the Vorlons shall reveal their might and all shall bow before it."_

Sejeel stiffened at the implications. "The Founders are our gods and it is they who give us true Order. We do not bow to false gods." The Vorta felt it was time to tie the conversation up. He wouldn't be able to get any more information this way except by getting it directly from the Minbari ship and its crew. And possibly get answers to the cause of the Founders' disinterest in the spinward direction. "This misunderstanding can be resolved by your withdrawal."

Haran's face then darkened as he came to a conclusion. He snarled,_ "We shall never withdraw. The Light shall prevail!"_

"The Dominion does not tolerate threats," Sejeel said with a frown as a parting blow. It was clear that the negotiation—if it ever existed—was not going to work. The alien appeared to be working under the illusion that his devotion was truer than the Vorta's devotion to the Founders. He took an immediate dislike to Haran. He was glad that only he could see and communicate with the Minbari alien, for if the Jem'Hadar saw and heard him, they'd immediately destroy the Minbari ship.

When the eye-piece returned the view of Yadera II and the Minbari vessels to him, Sejeel turned to the Jem'Hadar First.

"Deal with the situation, First."

Etana'kan was overjoyed. "Obedience brings victory, and victory is life."

-+-

Haran saw that the alien didn't know anything about the Minbari. He claimed that he was violating space owned by someone allied with something called the Dominion. That ally could only be the UFOPers. The alien appeared strange: Humanoids with pale skin, black hair, lilac eyes, hair piled high on the head, and ribbed earlobes that elongated up the sides of the head. They appeared similar enough to the Humans that they could only be in their region of the galaxy. Furthermore, only the UFOPers had the damned continuum distortion technology and they shared it only with their allies and animals.

No matter. Battle was about to be joined. Duty was heavier than a mountain, Death was lighter than a feather.

"Target the lead ship. Fire."

-+-

Thick emerald beams slammed into the shields of Omet'igal's ship, causing it to tumble under the shock. Etana'kan peered at the Minbari ship through his eye-piece. They were reckless to blindly defy the Dominion.

Still, it was a powerful warship.

The alien vessel fired again. This time, they managed to weaken Omet'igal's shields enough for one beam to strike a purple nacelle which exploded. The lead fighter tumbled away, wounded.

"Pilot, evasive maneuvers. Hard about," ordered Etana'kan.

"Yes, First," replied the pilot.

-+-

Haran was highly satisfied when he saw the lead alien vessel being disabled. No one tangled with the Minbari without being burnt.

One of the alien ships fired a whitish purple beam at the Shaidar.

The Shai Alyt stumbled and fell to the deck. He was stunned. The beam had passed through the shields as if they weren't even there!

He was angry. The universe just kept throwing new problems at the Minbari! When would it stop doing it and start letting them breathe?!

Haran took a deep breath. That was for the Priests to find out. For now, they had these enemies to deal with.

"Fire at will!" he roared.

He flailed and threw out his hands for support as his war cruiser shook again under Dominion fire.

-+-

Sejeel looked at Etana'kan quizzically. "First, I instructed you to let us know this ship."

"They shot first!"

The Vorta rolled his eyes exasperatedly at the Jem'Hadar commander. "I know that, First. If you destroy them, we won't know them . If you didn't understand my instructions, then I have to be clear this time: capture that ship. Attend to the matter."

Etana'kan shot the Vorta a blank look. "I am doing that."

-+-

Shai Alyt Haran held onto his chair as the war cruiser endured more Jem'Hadar fire. There was smoke and fire. Consoles were sparking. It was all a repeat of Jericho. Worse, the shields were completely ineffective.

A soft whine sounded from beyond the circular door to the command center. That sound was definitely not normal on the war cruiser.

"Rii Larann, investigate."

The rii bowed and opened the door. There appeared to be nothing there. Haran let out a breath with relief. He had been afraid that the UFOPers used their teleporters to come aboard. He shook his head. That was an irrational thought. He had been told that shields prevent the Tainted Ones from teleporting. The Vorlons had to be right.

"Squadron Two, focus all weapons on an engine pod of your target," Haran ordered. He watched as the Nials of that squadron regrouped and ran at one of the dancing flat ships, their three neutron beams alternating at it.

One of the Shaidar's main cannon swung its beam around to contact the other ship, causing its shields to flare angrily. Another shield-penetrating bright purple beam sheared off a subsidiary fin of the war cruiser.

Haran struggled to stand. "The shields are a waste! Deactivate them and use the energy for weapons!"

It was then that aliens shimmered into view in the command center. The Minbari were highly surprised. Many of them fell immediately to Jem'Hadar rifles.

Personal cloaking devices!

Haran drew his Sha'ann PPG, screaming in defiance, and fired. One of the gray scaly aliens was thrown back onto the deck.

The black-clad and black-armored Minbari warriors regrouped around the four command staff and faced the de-shrouded Jem'Hadar. Haran shouted, "Ah hel!"

The order caused plasma pulses to burst into the enemy ranks. Several Jem'Hadar fell, wounded. Then the Minbari charged the Jem'Hadar, wielding pikestaffs and long machete-like daggers. Some of them fell to polaron rifle beams. When the range was too close for energy weapons to be used, the Jem'Hadar used their rifles as clubs and parried with the Minbari.

The two species clashed, turning the fight into a wild melee. Screams of rage and pain punctuated the noise of blades, rifles and pikes striking each other and on flesh. A young Jem'Hadar flailed when his ketracel-white tube was torn loose. He grunted and dropped like a stone when a Minbari stuck a Sha'ann PPG into his side and fired. In spontaneous vengeance, the Minbari shooter was brutally cut down by another Jem'Hadar's rifle to the head, splattering gray scale-armor skin and black-grey uniform with red blood. A pike crushed a throat, choking a Jem'Hadar long enough for him to be killed. A hand-weapon or two fired, briefly adding their brightness to the chamber's light.

Shai Alyt Haran struggled out of the melee and stood back. He aimed his Sha'ann and fired into the confusion of warriors. For his trouble, a polaron beam bit into an armored shoulder. He gritted his teeth trying to contain the pain.

The surprise gained by the shrouded Jem'Hadar had given the Dominion an advantage. Soon, the combat turned in their favor. Haran, bleeding from the wound in the shoulder, decided that too much honor has been lost. The Minbari had begun to die the moment the Federation entered the war and it was time for them to realize this. He viciously thrust his pike into a Jem'Hadar eye and kicked at another Jem'Hadar, giving himself space. He took out a communicator from within his armor and opened a link to the ship itself. He spoke a single word into it.

"Honor."

-+-

Sejeel anxiously awaited the results of the boarding action on the Minbari warship. Anytime now, Etana'kan would contact him with news. They would find out where the Minbari came from. If they were from very far away as the ignorance of the Drai and the Dominion seem to suggest, no matter. Even if they didn't find out the location, no matter. The Dominion won't actively look for it, but it will eventually find it as it expands even if it takes centuries. Sejeel was not a betting man, but he would bet that a Foundling was already in the region of the Minbari origin.

The Drai guide, who had been observing the fights through sensor readings, took a sharp breath. "The enemy fusion reactors are going critical!"

Sejeel immediately knew what was happening. "Transporters! Take them now!"

The Vorta watched as the war cruiser eventually converted itself into a massive fireball and waves of debris buffeted the Dominion attack ships and Minbari fighters.

-+-

-+-

Haran felt pain throughout his body. Pain! That meant he was still alive! His eyes flew open.

All he could see was a dome that appeared to be built of glass and metal. Stars could be seen through the dome, but they didn't glitter as they would through a planet's atmosphere. A space station?

His head throbbed with an intense headache as he slowly sat up. Looking around, he could see other Minbari, some from the Shaidar, but mostly from the Nial fighters. Other than that, he could see unfamiliar aliens looking at them.

One of them was looking straight at Haran. The alien was Humanoid, tall and slender with black hair combed back over an unusually large head ridge that swept up from the nose over the head to the back. The ridge made his nose appear very large. The alien's eyes appeared to be full of pity as he slowly shook his head sadly.

Pity? Pity for him?

Anger rose within Haran. He would teach the alien to pity him!

A door opened and a group of soldiers marched through, bearing rifles. They were of the same species as those Haran and his crew fought back on the Shaidar. One of those purple-eyed Humanoids stood with them.

One of the Jem'Hadar stepped forward and said, "this is Internment Camp 147. You are here because you are enemies of the Dominion. You are free to move about the compound. But remember…beyond the atmospheric dome there's nothing but airless vacuum and barren rock. Leave the dome, even for an instant, and you die. There is no release, no escape…except death."

Haran screamed a primal scream as despair and loss of faith in the universe tore at him.

The Vorta camp overseer watched with feigned contempt as the screaming Minbari collapsed. Other Minbari moved to help him. Behind the façade of contempt, the overseer found them to be very interesting.

"Seems they are adjusting," he said. With that, he turned around and stepped back through the door. The Jem'Hadar followed.

He met the real camp overseer and his body's surface and clothes became molten wax and changed to the appearance of a female Changeling.

The real Vorta bowed with the palm of his hands turned upright, his face filling with worshipful awe. The Jem'Hadar merely stood in a protective circle around the Founder.

The female Changeling said, "Make no mention of my visit. You are not to change your handling of the camp because of it."

"Of course, Founder."

With that, she beamed off to a ship near the camp. Upon arrival, she ordered her Jem'Hadar to take her back to the Omarion Nebula and withdrew to her room. The Great Link would be very interested in her experience of the Minbari. Interrogations of several of the Minbari, including Haran, had revealed their point of origin. Naturally, none of them would remember the questioning.

The Founders had become interested in this latest batch of prisoners when a report came of the Minbari commander mentioning Vorlons.

Millennia ago, when the Changelings were being hunted down by solids fearful of their shape-shifting capabilities, beings of light appeared in bioships. They gave them refuge at a base on a rogue planet that was now in the Omarion Nebula. In gratitude, the Changelings allowed them to make genetic modifications, including the wonderful and euphoric gift of the Great Link to give them something of the Vorlon psychology. When the Vorlons left, they gave the Changelings free rein to do whatever they want to do but with the corollary that their attention be in all directions away from that of the Vorlon Empire.

Since then, the Changelings had set about building an imitation of the Vorlon Empire that was now the Dominion. They've even succeeded in using the genetic modification technology left at the Vorlon base to rein in the Vorta and Jem'Hadar for their project of imposing order on a chaotic universe.

Even as they were gods to the Dominion, the Founders always wanted to know more about the race that were more like gods than themselves but they had to obey the edict of not going in their direction. And no one must know about that as it would undermine the whole belief system of Founders being gods.

This was why the Minbari was a great opportunity to learn more of the Vorlons and their handiwork. The female Changeling hoped that one day the Vorlons would return and give the Founders an opportunity to repay the debt. According to the Minbari, they and the Vorlons were now involved in a devastating and losing war with other solids. They, and the female Changeling agreed, were confident that the Vorlons would end the war as soon as they unleash their fleets.

So repaying the debt would have wait. It might be a century before the Dominion is called upon, but when it is, the Founders would be there waiting.

-+-

It had been several days since Haran found himself in the Dominion prison camp. Haran was finished bathing. It was difficult considering he had only two large bowls of water and a cloth but he managed. Larann, formerly his rii, came forward and held out a robe fashioned out of white bed sheets.

"Thank you, Larann."

"It was my honor," she said. She had managed to gather the sheets and use the crudest methods available to fashion the white robe.

Haran took out a strong string and went about tying his ankles together. Looking up, he saw that Larann was trying hard to appear impassive. He smiled and said gently, "remember our days in the education temple?"

Larann smiled in response. "Oh yes. We teased Lennier so much when he first came into the temple. He chose the Religious calling even though so many of his family were Warriors."

Haran was finished tying the string. "Did you know that I scorned him when he remained steadfast to his Religious calling when most of his family died on the Black Star?"

"I did not know that."

"Yes. Perhaps I was wrong to do so." He chuckled at the memory as he kneeled on the floor and sat on his heels. "Well, it was in a past life."

Larann brought two plates of food and set them on the floor. One was for Haran and the other was set for the spirit of Valen, wherever he may be. The former Shai Alyt looked at the food with concealed distaste. It wasn't his favorite food but prison didn't afford the luxury of following all the traditions. He ate silently with his fingers, meditating on each taste while Larann stood by, watching respectfully.

When he finished, he said, "do you remember when we listened to the one of the oaths that the Rangers took in the temple?"

"Yes."

He recited, "'Til shade is gone, 'til water is gone, into the Darkness with teeth bared, screaming defiance with the last breath, to spit in Z'ha'dum's eye in the Last Battle.'"

Larann recited back to him. "'By my honor and the Light, my life will be a dagger against the Shadows.'"

He finished with, "'Until the Last Battle, to Z'ha'dum itself.'" Haran looked at the door leading to his cell. "Will he come?"

"Yes." Larann didn't feel like talking.

"It is amusing, is it not? That we must keep playing our parts in the dance of life? It is all a veneer, you know. Traditions. All a mask. Even the holy war."

Larann began to look stressed. "It…it is all we have."

"I apologize for stressing you. I won't say any more."

Finally, the door opened. It was the alien that Haran wanted to strike down for pitying him. The Karemma handed something wrapped in a white cloth to Larann. Haran bowed low to Valen's plate of food, paying obeisance to the memory of Valen and his promised return. He sighed and gave it to the Karemma as a bribe. Prison really didn't afford much room for tradition.

The alien left. Then many of the Minbari prisoners filed through the open door before shutting it. Larann placed the cloth-wrapped object on Haran's empty plate. He unwrapped the cloth, revealing a long bone. It came from a long dead prisoner and had been sharpened into a weapon. He laid the white cloth flat on the floor, pricked a finger with the sharpened bone, causing a bead of blood to appear and grow on the finger tip. Setting the pricked finger down to the cloth, Haran wrote:

_Going, all is clear._

_Autumn of the Circle's dance._

_What, then, is the truth?_

He had to squeeze his finger several times to continue writing and when he was finished, he bowed deeply to the assembled Minbari. He allowed his white robe to slip down off of his torso. Naked to his waist, Haran carefully tucked his sleeves under his knees and sat back on his heels. Deliberately and with a steady hand, he took the sharpened bone that lay on his plate. He looked at it wistfully, almost affectionately. It was fitting that a dead prisoner should assist a living one. He looked straight forward at the blank wall of the room beyond the other Minbari, imagining that his gaze was in the direction of Minbar. Setting his teeth in a supreme effort, he stabbed himself with both hands into the heart. Haran didn't move a muscle of his face. When he drew out the makeshift dagger, an expression of pain broke through his self-control for the first time but he uttered no sound. He fell forward dead.

Silence reigned. Larann, eyes wet, bowed deeply with the other witnesses and saw the end of the holy war in Shai Alyt Haran's death.

Vanity of vanities. All is vanity.


	6. Chapter 6

Okay, I have a ton of acknowledgements to get through and some comments to answer before we get started here.

First to a boatload of new people that have placed all of my stories on author and story alert I say thank you and bless you all. It is my hope (and the other authors as well) that you enjoy these stories. We're working on them and even if real life stomps us as it usually does, we are on the case. Any questions please contact us and we will get back to you ASAP.

Workerbee31: Thanks for your comments! We hope to keep your interest up in the coming future!

Anon: Thank you. We mock the English language all of the time. We are working to mock less.

The Grandiloquent Demagogue: Right now, the Q are the top of the line as far as we know but they will not be in this story per se. The Organians are above the Vorlons. The Metrons are younger but stronger and more technologically advanced. They First One group will stay out of it for the most part. However, the interference by the Vorlons and the would-be interference by the Shadows were halted by the Alpha quadrant First Ones and the Author-me. Otherwise, believe me this story would be a lot longer and more complex. Read today's entry concerning Earth Alliance. Life is about to become more complicated for them. Star trek's attitude has been formed by Roddenberry and as such sometimes especially in the TNG series, it comes across as you say, namby-pamby, but that isn't always true, and the authors and myself and a few others have had hot discussions concerning this. As you read the entire story, there are discussions throughout showing the attitude changes that will happen from TOS to the Voyager era. They will be a lot more militaristic due to the numbers of enemies lining up to take them out. The stronger you are the more people want to knock you down.

Dresbuscam: We don't want to kill ourselves adding everyone. But the Kzinti have NOT been forgotten. They will be mentioned in the upcoming chapter of ATV (main story).

Cmartist-Thank you. Check out 'that other site' for details as to when the chapters come out.

Tosann- Be careful and don't hurt yourself (smile). There was a comment in a future log by Picard discussing Federation findings about the truth of the Dominion war in their time line at their time from some 80 years in the future. The Vorlons were behind it and in ATV-2 we will explain why. That was placed there to show that the Vorlons hadn't given up at all.

Worker 72: The dominion war? No. Even if we do another ATV we will only reflect on that not deal with it. The Ramifications though, yes and the reasons why. Why they ended DS9 that way I will never know, but hey.

The Sithspawn: In this I disagree with you. This reality represents a fusion of two universes so to speak and Vorlon influence is a lot more intensive that we know. More on this later. I didn't say that they were omnipotent, but they have their fingers in a lot of things as was said in canon.

Walter D. Wormack: Hey, Sir: Khali is simply a jerk with a PhD who believes he knows everything and insists that others are wrong because they are not as smart as he is. Plus this is a chance to make a name for himself big time and he does not want to blow it. And we do have plans for that character starting now. Also you said you were thinking about writing something. What happened? Yeah, yeah, yeah. Do it anyway.

Grochek1: More on the Minbari spy today! The 'other spies are on BA-1

Hey, Samael03 or Glory or whoever you are today: If you wish to ask a legitimate question or make a sensible comment, please do. I will always answer you. But if you continue to act like a three year old, then you will be treated like one. I think you can do better but if you can't, well you will be treated like you treat others.

On with the story.

**Chapter 6**

_"**Public Relations"**_

_**Becerra Alpha One**_

_**Three days earlier: **_

When the _Miranda,_ USS _Hiroshima_ exited warp, the lone Minbari worker caste had the opportunity to see something that few Minbari had seen or lived to tell of. The Colonial station…no, he corrected himself. These people weren't Earthers, these Humans originated from another world on the other side of the galaxy. These Humans and their allies were wreaking havoc on his people believing that they had the right to savage the Minbari because of what had been done to them. Untold numbers of his people were dying yet here he was on a Federation ship begging for help from an enemy that in their righteousness would show no mercy. Yet they had. And by that action he was elated but at the same time more than a bit perplexed. He had come to them hoping for mercy by expecting death.

Lonach, a grandfather to a dying child the daughter of his middle daughter, his beloved Elanee; father to young dead sons; husband to a wife that had hadn't even recognized him as she went into the final stages of this horrible affliction that ran in his family; and formally of the Blue Sector Worker Caste had been surprised that he had made it this far. Thinking back to the beginning of this journey, he almost began to cry. _The Glory of Tir_ had been all but vaporized by the Klingon warships in the Pagati sector while on patrol. Three _Tinashis_ and thousands of Minbari were killed but it was the loss of Lonas, his only surviving son that had effected him deepest. Not even the loss of his two daughters because of the war had shredded his soul so deeply.

His entire family had been lost to him with the exception of one, his grandchild, his beloved Zeavwe. Two other young sons died of the same illness that claimed their mother before they even reached the age of five years. Lonach had always suspected that perhaps this was nature's balance for having no problems reproducing where others had so much difficulty.

The Blue Sector caste flew transport shuttles. That was their responsibility. What possessed him to steal a shuttle and pilot it through the jump gate to the system where the fighting had been reported with his granddaughter was not foolish act of suicide. It was an act of complete and total desperation, his reasoning as flimsy as the thinnest sheet of paper.

The Glath system had been denuded of its defenses, the _Sharlins_ ruined, destroyed, helpless before a terrible enemy that seemed all but unstoppable. When his old, obsolete shuttle exited the jump gate, he half expected to be destroyed. The Federation ships were small but up close they looked like mountain ranges. He had immediately upon exiting started transmitting across all frequencies. In a matter of moments a UFOP ship appeared using their FTL drive. Transmissions from the alien ship demanded that he power down. He did so, not wishing to antagonize the enemy and therefore he allowed his transmission to speak for him. After an eternity he felt it a distant pulling. And he disappeared along with his little Zeavwe. Instantly he found himself on the starship. Such power!

Aliens with huge guns were now pointed at him and for the first time he felt frightened as he held his granddaughter close. Flanked by several guards, another Human entered the strange transport room. He was dressed in red and his eyes looked cold. The fur on his head was a dark brown mixed with grey and he looked dangerous.

I'm Captain Kevin Avon Northington," the alien said to him. Lonach was surprised that he could understand him. "Why were you stupid enough to come into a war zone in an unarmed shuttle bringing a child?"

"Captain, I wanted to save my child," answered the old Minbari. "My people could not save her. I chose to come to those who might be able to."

The Captain was somewhat at a loss. The Glath system wasn't heavily defended by the Minbari as it was a protectorate of the Minbari Federation. It had become increasingly obvious that the Minbari were leaving their non-Minbari citizens as the war became increasingly difficult for them.

With this prisoner there came a hard decision. He could easily transport them to the protectorate world and that would be that. But he was a product of the USS _Jonestown_. None of the Officers, young or old, did things they way they should have been done on that ship. Besides, he was curious. He couldn't let this go without at least a precursory check.

When the ship's doctor scanned the child, she blanched and dragged the frightened three year old to sick bay.

That was ten days ago. Now he was on the alien station and the doctors were swarming all over his only child and he dared to believe. Tulann and the others may have been right. The Grey Council tried to keep them quiet by placing them in exile.

They might as well have tried to stop the wind.

**UFP: Earth:**

…"How do you feel about the Earth Alliance telepathic citizens asking for political asylum? And would the make such a dangerous journey from Earth Alliance to flee here?"

There were a dozen or so questions about telepaths thrown at Ambassador David Sheridan simultaneously and the verbal assault had caught him completely unprepared. There had been so much-the recent trip through the looking glass had simply floored him and he was completely unaware of anything concerning telepath refugees. His mind was still reeling from the information discussed with his son. The history of that other Sheridan – His son John should have destroyed that the instant it was transmitted by that Minbari – what little history he had given him, was making him rethink this entire war. John wasn't in any better shape as he spent a bit of time trying to absorb what had been given to him. There were so many tantalizing bits of information, but what had been omitted was even more mysterious and raised many questions that begged to be answered.

The alien Federation vessels and that Minbari warship that had accompanied them exited the passageway at the exact same moment as his ships but no trace of them was found, presenting another mystery to be solved. Fast speculation was that they entered into their own time-space reality but no one was talking, especially the Feds. There hadn't been time to digest it all when this newest revelation hit. The Senator-Ambassador had prepared to discuss the colonists, not renegade telepaths. And just what were telepaths from Earth doing here and how did they get here? He knew very little about telepaths and was somewhat at a loss for words.

PsiCorps representative Arati Mehta however wasn't at a loss. "What did you say?" she asked, stunned by this completely unexpected development. She wasn't happy about that revelation at all and it showed. Next to her, Bester's and Yang's anger and concern began to grow. How could telepaths have gotten here to this world? And whatever the answer was, that Underground Railroad had to be closed and quickly. All of the other telepaths in the entourage unanimously agreed.

Bester tried to remain impassive but they had to be blips, telepaths that had rejected PsiCorps and remained in hiding, something he couldn't understand the logic of. The blips were strange aberrations. How could any telepath not believe in the corps?

"There are telepaths from your world that have asked for asylum from your Earth," the reporter explained. "They claim that they were persecuted into either joining the PsiCorps organization, or drugged into permanent stupors, or even imprisoned. Is any of this true? Do you treat your citizens that way?"

"The PsiCorps organization exists for the protection of all telepaths, Mehta answered, staring the reporter in the face. "I do not know what you've heard, but our organization exists to help and protect telepaths on 'our Earth'. There was a time when we were feared and hated and many of us were killed, murdered because non-telepaths treated telepaths as if we were some sort of disease to be exterminated. Earth Alliance helped to develop the PsiCorps for their protection as well as ours. Rules were imposed and we were able to form families. Now, no telepath needs to be afraid because the PsiCorps is family and we protect our own. The PsiCorps is mother, the PsiCorps is father. That is our motto and it's true. We are family, something we were denied by our real families when they discovered we were different, that we had abilities beyond normals." She paused for a moment to frame the correct words. The Federation had little to no experience with human telepaths and it would be important to present the correct image to these people if she were to be able to engage the Federation telepaths and bring them into the family. "All telepaths, no matter how strong or weak they are, are required to become part of the family simply because there is no other way to guarantee their safety and security. It is true that those few sad individuals who choose not to join for whatever reason do take drugs to suppress their gifts so that they may live their lives among the normals without the fear of being hurt or that they would unintentionally use their gifts to frighten others."

"So there's no truth to the rumors that you have a forced breeding program and that the drugs used on telepaths cause psychosis and death?" asked the same reporter.

"None whatsoever," answered a very indignant Arati. "But I have a question. Do you always treat foreign dignitaries in such a manner as soon as they disembark from a long journey?"

"Do you plan to see the defectors?" another reporter asks completely ignoring her question.

"There are no defectors here," she said sweetly and with absolute conviction. "They may have grievances however misplaced they may be, but I am sure we can work things out and they'll come home."

**EA **_**Achilles**_

Captain John Sheridan and Captain Jeffery Sinclair finished looking at the recording from the Minbari Shai Alyt of the _Blood of Saints_ for the fourth time. Slowly, John took the personal crystal from the data recorder and then smashed it, then stepped on the pieces for good measure.

Jeffery did nothing to stop him, preferring simply stare at the wall. "I wish he'd never sent that."

Neither man had known the other that well before they had reviewed the information that had been given them. Sheridan's data interweaved with the Starfury pilot's so much that he decided to allow Sinclair to view it. That prompted both men to share their private messages with one another. The information was shocking, disturbing, and in total need of being destroyed after viewing. The shared data would mark the beginning of what would be a long and deep friendship throughout the coming turbulent years, as Earth Alliance and the Federation began their political courtship.

John shook his head. "What could have been," he muttered. "Clark starting a civil war…I find it hard to believe that the man would have allowed himself to fall so low. How many people were killed? And what price did that other me have to pay to break away from Earth Alliance?"

"The other 'us'," corrected Sinclair. "They both paid a price on _Babylon Five_ because of their convictions."

"I need a drink."

"You become President and I become the leader of the Rangers on Minbar." Jeffery laughed and a moment later, John joined him. "I can see us both being shot as soon as we return home."

John nodded slowly. "I've shown this to my father but it was imperative that no one else saw that information. Our careers would be over, and I can only imagine how many of our people would want to put us on ice for the rest of our lives. But I am glad that Earth survived without the help of the Federation and that the Minbari have become allies, as strange as that sounds." Suddenly he slammed his fist hard onto the table. "We're a victim of someone else's manipulations! How many times has it occurred over an over and over?"

"That depends – if our war is the result of the same actions by our Vorlons. But the Shadows…I'm glad we don't have to deal with that here."

John stretched. "Let's hope 'that' goes better here in our universe, than it did in the other."

Both men looked at one another in mutual understanding. The spider-like creatures generated a sense of natural fear, dread and hatred like nothing else had ever done. The Shadows, his Shadows – and that thought made him shiver – had made an agreement to stay out of the war and not interfere in any way, thank God.

The public data concerning the truth about the Shadows and Vorlons, and the impending war, and the relations between Earth Alliance, the Federation and the Minbari would be deemed invaluable for analysts in the next few decades. Clark's actions and the results would certainly raise a few eyebrows and both men had speculated whether the Feds would be allowed to see it. They may not take kindly as to what happened to their ships and people in that other universe. Fortunately that wasn't John's or Jeffery's problem, as they would kick it upstairs.

"Well," Captain Sheridan said. "Ship's secured. Let's see what Paris looks like on this Earth."

_**Earth (Starfkeet) Orbit**_

Londo and his group were next. To his chagrin the Narn had gone first through the transportation device inside the station. Unlike the Starfleet ships systems, these transportation devices were dedicated to getting people off of the stations and onto their respected destinations as quickly and as efficiently as possible. Oh, no, shuttles took too much time and these Humans had the need to hurry and get to wherever they were going as soon as 'humanly' possible. That thought made him smile a bit. These devices 'were' convenient and he couldn't wait to see if his people could acquire such technology. That alone would change the face of Centauri Prime.

And that thought again amazed him. These people weren't concerned about the military importance of such devices as much as they were concerned about damaging the 'culture' of the people that would acquire it. Their Prime Directive was very strange, especially since it required that you respect the rights of others. He'd read it several times and each time, he discovered something new. Yes, the documents were that of an enlightened people but he could also see the dangers of overdoing it, allowing their high-minded ideals to overdo it. As he continued to think about it, it occurred to him that with such a thing the Narn situation would have never occurred. And instead of being surrounded by hostile or at the very least indifferent aliens, the Centauri influence would have spread much further. Strength came in numbers and with peace if this Federation model was true. Yes, they had serious disagreements, but look at their progress! They were strong without having to prove it to anyone. Well, he admitted that that wasn't exactly true; they did have enemies but in the end these Humans and their allies were strong.

Seeing the next group of people disappearing, turning into sparkling bits of quantum energy brought him back to the present. The transporters were frightening but…he could get used to them quickly enough and the fact that they were safe made him feel much better in light of the fact that the Narn were treated better than the Centauri. It was a shame that of all the Narns that they could think of sending, G'Kar was numbered among them. That one was an arrogant vicious brute and should have been, in Londo's humble opinion, the very last Narn on his planet chosen as a representative. But alas, it wasn't his choice because if it had been, then none of them would be here in the first place.

Londo did reluctantly admit that he understood why the Narn had to be here. The rebuilding of their home world was a great enticement as much as the trade agreement with his people was. If the talks turned out satisfactorily then the Centauri would be as the Humans say _'filthy, stinking rich'._ It was little wonder why the Emperor agreed to these trade talks despite the war raging between the Humans and their allies, and the Minbari. By now, he had little faith that the Minbari could survive this war with these other Earthers and the Klingons. And after the war, the surviving Minbari would be in dire straits. Their territory would most likely be invaded by scavenger's intent on looting and pillaging what was left. Truly the idea was tempting even to the Centauri – if it weren't for the Vorlons. No one knew what they really thought or how they would respond if their allies lost but nothing good would come of it. The Emperor knew as well but again if the trade talks went as planned, the Centauri wouldn't even need Minbari scrapes.

"We're ready for you now Ambassador," the Federation transporter person told him. "Your baggage has already been transported to the surface."

The young-looking human didn't seem old enough to serve food to customers. Why would they have an Ensign running something as complex as a machine that breaks down the body into billions of parts and then re-assembling them back – correctly – thousands of miles away? Great Maker!

Well," Londo gulped. "Let us get this over with, yes?" he said as he stepped onto the platform. He turned towards the other Centauri nervously following. "Hurry up. We can't keep destiny waiting." The collective look on their faces was the only thing that kept his hearts beating. "Everyone take a deep breath."

"Energizing."

The world disappeared in twinkling lights only to reappear at the hotel moments later. Quickly he checked to see if everything-preferably his body parts- had come along for the ride. Satisfied, he got his first glimpse of the hotel. The Centauri Ambassador stared at the view in front of him and smiled. The central hall of the hotel literally dripped with the richness of its people. The beautiful, plush, royal blue carpet was thick enough to sink into. Chandeliers, giving and reflecting light in a manner he'd never seen before delighted his senses. The sheer elegance of the reception area gave hints to how his people would be treated. A slight frown threatened to break out when he saw the Narn, but the sight of them opened-mouth staring at the splendid surroundings, caused it to die stillborn. Everything around him pointed to one word.

"Decadence."

Yes, he could get used to this.

-+-

Slowly he rambled towards the transporter, no more eager than the other Centauri to be torn apart and rebuilt somewhere else by the whim of the Federation enemy of all things Minbari.

"Energizing."

Turo Condari was terrified. The Earther technology had been intimidating. Now it was more than frightening. The real Turo Condari was dead, murdered and replaced by the Minbari agent Nur of the Blood Knives clan. So far, he'd been lucky, and no one had really noticed if he had acted a little strange when compared to the others. Years of training specifically for a mission like this, had barely served to keep him from suspicion. The dozens of unsuspected Centauri nuances served to keep him isolated from the others and that served to keep him from interaction with the others. He enjoyed the solitude.

But now-

– But now the last two weeks of his life flashed in front of his mind. Space station _Becerra_ was an undeniable testament to the arrogance and power of the alien federation that had dared to challenge Minbari might. Securrity on the station had been tight enough to stop him from completing his assignment. The chameleon net had proven useless. The one time he had occasion to use it, the UFOP internal sensors had detected the supposedly stealth device and it automatically shut off and Nur had no chance to even get close enough to the Pirate or the murderer Kirk before they had left to plague his people. Incensed, he nearly triggered the explosives in his body in the station and kill as many of these aliens as he could. However when he discovered the true purpose of the Centauri traveling to the Alpha quadrant, he discovered that he could redeem himself in a more effective manner befitting one of his profession.

The trip to get to this abominable planet had been most fascinating. It was a sad thing that he would not be able to report the wealth of information that he'd acquired to his superiors but that was impossible. Surrounded by enemies was a disturbing thing but being so immersed in his character, he was pleased that no one had discovered his cover.

Surprisingly, unlike Centauri foodstuffs, the Human foods –the fruits and vegetables – were far more **palatable** than he had imagined. Those, he enjoyed, the only good things that the enemies had to offer. Contrary to popular opinion, many Centauri didn't drink but even so, he had nursed a few drinks to maintain the illusion he had so carefully cultivated. Drugs countered the deleterious effects experienced by the Minbari who ingested alcohol but it gave him terrific headaches. That was just fine since most other Centauri attributed them as the results of hangovers. That helped to improve his cover.

The passageway, so unlike hyperspace went on forever, but the lights and colors inside were beguiling. Flying through a planet that wasn't really there almost made him lose control of his bodily functions like some of the Centauri had. The appearance of the two enemy vessels filled him with concern for the war. Just by glancing at them, he could recognize their power and from the awed glances of the Federation crew he knew he was correct. The vessels they lay claimed to dangerous bad enough, now both enemies were creating new and even more dangerous ships to lay waste all that he knew.

That Minbari warship, like nothing he'd ever seen before shocked him to his core. He wanted to demand why they were in league with the Humans and Klingon beasts. A dark thought began to push into his mind continuing to haunt him no matter how he tried to push it away. The ship could have belong to 'the others', the dark Minbari those who would ally themselves with the Shadows. That would explain the differences in the ship's design and the fact that they would so willingly ally themselves with the enemies of the Light. It also served to answer why the Minbari onboard had not destroyed the ship. Traitors, all! The only blessed thing was that the Ashen were allies and that the Vorlons would soon join the war and rid his people of these creature's blight forever!

The transporter effect swept him and the others away and he nearly stifled a scream as he was suddenly concern for his soul. Would this device keep him whole or separate the spirit from the body? It was like experiencing sudden death and an agonizing rebirth all at the same moment. He hadn't had any pain but the uniqueness of the transport frightened him as much as it had the Centauri. But the Minbari was concerned for his soul

Moments later he was staring around in astonishment at his new surroundings. Checking his body to make sure that he was indeed complete, he stepped off of the transporter pad. Londo was in front of him talking about how decadent this hotel was and maybe seeing the owners so that it could possibly be franchised to Centauri Prime.

Nur continued to remain in character but he was furious. The Ambassador was acting as if the war had already been won by the UFOPers and their servants! Filled with fresh determination, he vowed to kill as many of these creatures as possible when they met at the Federation council.

Unknown to the Minbari, a madman Garth of Izar once a Federation starship captain, had discovered a variation of the same type of sub-nuclear explosives he carried underneath his fingernails. It was completely undetectable in its inert form, but he was happy that the Federation sensors had failed to detect it. For generations the secret of the explosive was a carefully guarded secret among the Blood knives clan. When combined, the explosive components would generate a small fusion reaction that would cook his body within thirty nanoseconds. The calcium and traces of lithium in his bones would complete the reaction and the resulting explosion would vaporize everything inside of a kilometer.

"More than sufficient," he muttered. He would die knowing that his enemies would burn with him

"Did you say something?" asked Londo, overhearing the whispered comment.

Nur recovered quickly. "I said that this is more than sufficient."

"Yes, yes," Londo said. "Wherever Earthers are, they appreciate the creature comforts. That is one of their greatest traits." He turned away from Nur to speak with the others. "No gawking until we reach our rooms, yes?"

Nur followed the others smiling as foolishly as the other Centauri. One last great meal, a tour of the Human city and a fateful meeting that would prove once and for all that the Minbari were a power to be feared no matter how far away their enemies were located.

_**The Solar Le Clément hotel:**_

_**Paris:**_

The hotel was spacious and comfortable, five-star in every way; however PsiCops Alfred Bester and Roberta Yang were not really interested in the ambiance. They were worried. This development and rocked them and plans to talk to this Earth's telepaths had been waylaid by the presence of the defectors.

"Calm down," Arati told them. "Yes this was unexpected but these people already knew of the PsiCorps."

"Yes," Roberta agreed. "But we don't know what they told the Federation about us or our plans. If we can't maintain some sort of damage control, then the political repercussions will be severe. If these blips are allowed to stay they'll conceivably start a hemorrhage that will ruin PsiCorps."

"I'm aware of that. I will want the both of you to talk to them, find out how they got here and convince them to return home!"

"And just how do we do that?"

"That's your problem," Arati coolly told him. "Arrangements are being made for you to meet and convince them to return home. Toni will mediate," she said referring to another high-ranking member of Psi Corps. "I need to talk to the telepaths here and convince them to join us or at least consider our mutual plights." There had been a request by PsiCorps to meet with the telepaths of this Earth and were somewhat surprised that there were only ninety human telepaths known to exist, which made little sense to have so few. There had to be more, possibly in hiding for some unknown reason. The known ones of course knew one another but they'd gone their separate ways and nothing like a PsiCorps was known to exist. That was about to change. "If I can get them on our side, this debacle will be worth it."

"It shouldn't be too much of a problem convincing them to return home," replied a perplexed Bester. "I don't understand why they left in the first place. This isn't their world. These aren't their people. Home offered security and safety for all of our people. These people have rejected us and for what?"

"I have some information. They're located with the other Earth Alliance refugees on the Archanis IV colony," Roberta told them. "The Klingons used to claim that sector but since their alliance, things have improved. I am given to understand that there are also a few Klingons located on the planet. It's near the original hyperspace transit and therefore that planet will be a major hub between both the Federation and Klingon territories and our space."

"So you're saying that this Archanis IV will become a very rich planet, lots of trade and commerce backed by the protection of both governments, with the Earth Alliance colonists in the middle of everything."

"Yes," Roberta said. "So, the escapees will not be alone. That is a tempting prospect."

"It makes no difference," countered Bester. "The teeps will not be accepted by the colonists. You know as well as I do that eventually they will be hounded and persecuted."

"I wonder," Arati commented. "These mundanes are different here and we must take that into consideration. They don't have the ignorance – I should rephrase that – prejudices that our mundanes have. But they're still mundanes and eventually the fear will begin to express itself and their anger and hatred will take over. That's the reason why we're here to contact and offer our protection to the telepaths here."

"And what about the Betazoids," Roberta asked. "Will there be talks between us and them?"

"I've arranged to speak to them, sort of a meet and greet. They're aliens and it will take time for me to understand their motivations. But they're also telepaths and humanoid ones at that, very close to the Human species and that gives us a basis to develop a working relationship. But that's my problem. I want you to understand this. We need to get these runaways home, however if we can't then they must represent PsiCorps in this part of the galaxy. They are still Earth Alliance members as the colonists are and subject to the rules and government of Earth Alliance, not the Federation. Toni will impress this on the teeps. No exceptions. If the Federation loses and our Earth is destroyed, we will have to have some place to seek refuge."

"I don't think that the Minbari will win," Bester said. "They've lost almost every battle against the allies. Unless they pull of some sort of miracle, I don't see them continuing the battle for the next two months."

"I agree with you," Roberta said. "Notice that these people are not even overly concerning about the Minbari retaliating. They should be more concerned."

"I think they are," said Arati, "for our world. "They believe they can protect it and you can feel their confidence. But if they can't, we'll come here and make our stand. And that's the other reason why were here. We need to make friends here, start influencing them and extend our relationships here. We have a chance to mold them to our will, starting with their telepaths. Our analysis of the Federation ruling council has suggested the reason the Vulcans have so much influence is because they are a telepathic race."

"The entire race?" asked Bester. That was an interesting question. The Vulcan Ambassador had married a Human. Did that make him a well placed spy for the Vulcans on the Humans? That was indeed something to think about.

"That's correct. Being telepathic, they're higher on the food chain people. That's why they're in charge. It's so obvious. And while we're doing this, take this into consideration. If it's true that there are less than a hundred natural telepaths on this Earth, then this strongly suggests that our Earth is more advanced than this one by numbers alone. Our Earth is most likely the original Earth and these people aren't going to like that when they come to the same conclusions. They will feel disillusioned and it will be Earth Alliance's – and ours – responsibility to help them through this. You remember how we collectively felt when we are told that we were some sort of copy. I believe they'll feel worse. We'll have to help guide them through this."

Then we need to get to the blips as soon as possible before they can make things worse."

"Absolutely."

"I will inform our hosts right away."

_**Paris, streets of: **_

"So Mister Vernon, what do you think of this Paris?" Professor Amir Rajiv Khali, PhD of Xenopsychology & Xenopolitics, asked his favorite graduate assistant.

The tall blond smiled almost hysterically as he took in his surroundings. Khali had not even bothered to see his room but had instead dragged his two grad students into the city to begin his study of the culture and locals, comparing them to his home and his city of Paris. "It looks like ours, but different," Samuel told him. A lame answer, but it was all that he could think of at this second. "The buildings are obviously different but the landscape, the geography is identical at first guess.But what strikes me is that several of the monuments are identical, taking into account the age differences and environmental factors. The historical figures look different and should by definition act uniquely within their environment so the question is why is so much so similar?"

"I agree with your line of thought," Khali told him. "Earth must be something truly special for them to create this planet in our Earth's image. We should even be calling this planet Earth as it's a copy. Maybe we should start called it Terra," he mused. "Make sure you record everything."

"Yes, Professor." The twenty-five year old checked his float-cam, floating next to him. The camcorder was very expensive with a small battery powered engine that allowed the camera to literally fly and hover at the owner's command. The professor trusted him with the video-camera more than he trusted Theresa Anderson, his other grad student.

As was custom, the grad students walked just behind him, no more than a step of two but it was something that the Professor had well, not exactly insisted upon it, but strongly suggested. He wanted his field of view unencumbered.

"There are so many aliens here," exclaimed Theresa. The numbers of Andorians and other obviously humanoid aliens co-mingling so easily with Humans wasn't surprising. It was just like on the _Becerra_ station, however here it hit home. It wasn't just a PR campaign by the Feds, it had been real.

"Of course there are Theresa," Khali told her. "These high numbers of aliens walking around freely without restriction serves as confirmation to my hypothesis. They're corrupting the very fabric of this society from within. Humanity can't grow in communities such as these. The conflicts, the social differences, the sexual compatibility even among the Human-like aliens will dilute the purity of Humanity physically as well as culturally."

"I don't necessarily agree with your suppositions, Professor," Theresa said. "They're living in peace and…"

"That's why you're struggling so hard to get your Ph D, Miss Anderson," Khali sarcastically responded. "You fail to see the obvious. I'm trying to help you understand, but you seem to be focuses in all of the wrong directions. I suggest that you maintain some semblance of common sense and keep quiet, and listen to me. And maybe, just maybe, you will achieve something rather than be relegated to the ignominy of the masses."

"Yes Sir."

"As I was saying, despite their apparent advances, these people are predetermined to suffer the same fate as the Centauri who moral decay has been recorded by many xeno-sociologists in the last fifty years. Ibn Khaldun was correct in his belief that each dynasty has a certain amount of provinces and lands, and no more. When the dynastic groups have spread over the border regions, their numbers are necessarily exhausted. This, then, is the time when the territory of the dynasty has reached its farthest extension, where the border regions form a belt around the center of the realm. If the dynasty then undertakes to expand beyond its holdings, its widening territory remains without military protection, and is laid open to any chance attack by enemy or neighbor. This has a detrimental result for the dynasty. That was a direct quote from his book by the way," he told both students. "Memorize it, if you haven't already.This world's decay is the result of the Federation's overenthusiastic expansion and a loss of a definitive leadership whose direction…"

"Professor," Theresa said, interrupting him which caused him to frown. "He also wrote that all records, by their very nature, are liable to error because of several reasons. Partisanship towards a creed or opinion, overconfidence, a mistaken belief in the truth, the inability to place events, especially these new events here and now, in a real context, ignorance of the laws concerning this changing society and, my favorite, the common desire to gain favor of those of higher ranks, by praising them, by spreading their fame. Aren't we," and she meant '_you'_, "being influenced by our experiences in Earth Alliance in our categorization of these people. Our experiences are reflecting attitudes towards these individuals. They are completely different both racially and ethnically from us even if their Earth-"

"Terra."

"'Earth' is similar. There is a tendency for us to exaggerate these differences between groups because of our lack of understanding and our general beliefs that we're better than them." There, she said it. Now all she had to do is to wait for the explosion.

"Are you implying that I am not being objective in my observations?" he continued walking not even designing to look at her but anyone with eyes could see the hostility radiating from him and pointed directly at the young twenty-four year old blond. "I resent that Miss Anderson. I've been in this field longer than you've been alive. I've forgotten more that you'll ever learn, so don't tell me that I'm not being objective. I am trying to save these Humans here from moral decay and eventual destruction. That you don't like my methods, fine. But keep your opinions to yourself."

"I believe they call it in-group favoritism mentioned by a Hewstone and his group way back in 2002," she continued, completely ignoring him. "You're characterizing this Earth and I believe that you are stereotyping according to your prejudices for this world in favor of our own. You've been biased since you've met the Federation Humans and it clouding your judgment on every observation you've had since we set foot on the _Concordat_."

Sam, his eyes pointed in every direction but theirs, tried to blend into the background as much as possible. Those two were at it once more and he had learned long ago to stay out of their little conversations. Their arguments were the stuff of legend back home and he wondered why the Professor kept her around. Their contempt for one another was well known. What was it that she had over him?

"I challenge you to find anyone, besides yourself, would claim that I am being biased towards these people in any way," snapped Khali. "It is absolutely clear to anyone with a degree and a little experience that these people are headed towards disaster, their technology not withstanding. Their Humanity has been filtered through the eyes of a thousand aliens and they can't even see that any more. Senator Clark's theories on cross cultural alien contamination was amateurish at best but he had a solid grasp on the workings of Humanity and the dangers that resulted when someone other than Humans dominated Humanity. When my observations are published, both worlds will be enlightened. So keep your thoughts to yourself and maybe you'll let something slip into your brain besides your own opinions."

"I am sure Professors Steinberg and Yamata will have somewhat of a different perspective on things," she countered.

Khali stopped dead in his tracks. "Miss Anderson no one is forcing you to keep me as your advisor." Her thesis was in direct contrast to his upcoming papers and why he hadn't been able to discourage her had given him many sleepless nights. "You can leave whenever you want. In fact I suggest that you return to the hotel pull out your little computer, write down what few gleanings of insight you may happen to stumble upon, and stay there until we've completed our efforts here."

"No, Sir," she retorted. "Not yet. My father paid for your studies and grants, and that means I'll be here whether you like it or not. You are not going to deprive me from developing my own personal awareness, knowledge, and skills in multicultural awareness on a parallel world by forcing me away from all of the action. If I decide to get another advisor my work will stand on its own without your help," she defiantly added.

The professor as so angry now he could barely speak. Everything he worked for, his reputation, his status could be undone by this twenty-four year-old little snot. If she published in opposition of his own conclusions, the scandal would be unavoidable. Despite her nobody status, she was here with him on this world and people would take her work seriously. There was no choice something had to be done quickly to discredit her before she could start and ruin his reputation. No one respected a Professor whose student had tried to upstage them. He needed to distract her somehow."

"And Uncle Clark was an arse."

"So is his niece," Khali muttered to low for anyone to hear. He needed to talk to Arati.


	7. Chapter 7

Full chapter, people

_**Chapter Seven **_

"_**Points of View-part one"**_

_**Earth – Paris (Federation space):**_

"Will that be all?"

Guinan looked up, surprised. She shook herself and brought her mind back to the present. "Yes, thank you."

The technician packed up his equipments and left the suite. Now alone, Guinan looked around at her new residence. As per her request, the floor was made of tiles instead of the standard carpet, the walls were draped in exotic-looking fabrics and the lighting was moody and subdued with many candles burning on furniture surfaces. The Federation government had bent over backward to accommodate her desire to recreate a little of home in her suite.

It all felt empty.

Guinan's lips twisted bitterly as she saw Paris outside a window. "This isn't helping," she told herself. She had thought recreating an El-Aurian room would help ease the grief. Instead, it was making it worse.

The door chimed for attention. Somebody was at the door. Guinan didn't want any visitors. All she wanted was….

She whispered the words in awe. "…The Nexus." She couldn't remember much, what it looked like or how long she had been there but she clearly remembered the feeling.

Total and complete joy.

She never wanted to stop feeling that, wrapping the joy around herself. It certainly stripped her of the memories of El-Auria's destruction and the murder of her people for the duration. But then she was snatched away from the Nexus, cruelly deprived of the joy. Guinan felt a burst of anger. Agitated, she paced and clutched the folds of her robe. "I have to get back," she whispered to herself. She stopped. Was the lure really that strong?

The door chimed again. Guinan scowled at it. Didn't they realize that the lack of response meant she wanted to be alone? She pulled the door open so hard it banged on the wall. A tall elegantly dressed handsome man was standing at the open door, taken aback by the sudden movement.

Guinan would forgive this man. "Martus."

She grabbed his shoulders and pulled him into an embrace. Guinan released her tears.

"Shhh, Mother. I know, Mother." Martus patted her back as he gently moved her back into the suite and shut the door.

When Guinan calmed down and sat cross-legged on the bed-like sofa, Martus went over to the mobile bar. He tossed several ice cubes in a glass, poured a clear liquid and a dark liquid onto the ice. He then poured a larger amount of white liquid into a metal cup, shook it and poured it into the glass. Stirring it, he handed it to Guinan. She held the cold glass with both hands and sipped it. Taken aback by the sweetness of the mixed drink, she said, "Wow. Sweet. Strong. What is it?"

Martus smiled as he sat beside his mother. "White Russian."

"Oh, I remember now." Guinan smiled her thanks and sipped some more.

"I often find it oddly comforting to create and mix drinks for myself or other people."

"'Other people' being your lady friends," teased Guinan.

Chuckling, Martus said, "Speaking of that, I got us a ship."

"A ship?"

"A yacht, really. A fast yacht. I…convinced a wealthy lady friend to donate it."

Guinan smiled ruefully. "Con man."

Martus raised his hands defensively. "I only listened to her problems and she expressed her gratitude by donating the ship." Putting his hands down, he looked imploringly at Guinan. "What do you say, Mother? Go after the Nexus? The _Jenolan's_ waiting."

Guinan was sorely tempted. It was all she wanted at this moment. She could still feel that a part of herself was missing, left behind in the Nexus. "What about the others? There are forty-seven of us from the _Lakul_." She sighed hopefully. "Maybe there are more of them from both the _Lakul_ and the _Robert Fox_ inside the Nexus."

"We'll take 'em. The ship's big enough for all of us. Gonna be tight, though." Martus held out a hand. "Shall we go?"

"But…can we reach it? It's traveling away at warp."

"If we don't, we'd have to wait thirty-nine years before it comes through the galaxy again. We'll push the engines. Even a Starfleet ship would be hard put to catch up to it."

Guinan knew that that meant. Warp cores, when pushed beyond the safety limits for a long time, tended to explode. "And die trying?" She wondered if it wasn't better to die than be deprived of the bliss that was the Nexus and be crushed by the sorrow of El-Auria's loss. All the reports on the Nexus she had read say that any ship that approached the energy ribbon is destroyed. That the two transport ships were caught within the Nexus was a fluke. She bit her lower lip before coming to a decision. "Keep the ship. Sell it. Whatever you want." She balled her fists tightly. It was going to be very hard for herself. "We'll wait."

Now Martus was concerned. "You're sure?" Getting a nod in response, he nodded. "All right. I'll sell the _Jenolan_ to Starfleet. They certainly need the ships for their war and future occupation work. We'll do what we can to make sure we have a ship the next time it comes through. And the money for it." He sighed. "A lot of listening to do before the Nexus comes."

Guinan waved her hand dismissively. "Do whatever you want. I'll just stay here and wait."

Martus was worried. He had fled the El-Aurian System and came into the Federation by a different route than that taken by his mother, so he had never experienced the Nexus. He was surprised and glad when he heard that Guinan had survived the Borg onslaught and was rescued by Starfleet. He had heard the stories of the Nexus from the other survivors of the _Lakul_ and wondered if it wouldn't be a good idea to join them in entering it. In fact, all of the survivors were obsessed with going back into the Nexus and he could see the evidence of this in Guinan herself. His grandmother had compared his mother with Uncle Terkim, a family misfit and an influence on Guinan because of his very un-El-Aurian humor. Martus could see that his mother's sense of humor was in danger.

He came to his own decision. He took Guinan's forearms and pulled her off the sofa. The glass of White Russian was empty now. Martus put it back on the mobile bar. "Come, Mother. I know how much you love museums."

Guinan silently allowed her son to take her by the hand out of the suite. There was no reaction from her.

_**Earth**_

_**New Chicago-Old Town**_

A week was a long time, Arati Mehta thought, to wait after finally arranging a meeting with this Earth's telepaths, but it was finally over. The good thing was that these people did meet once a year. They had an organization of some sort that apparently was designed more as a type of sorority-fraternity than any actual real institution created for telepaths. The gifted were all over the place and it took time for them to arrive on Earth for this momentous occasion. Meanwhile, she took the time to enjoy the sights with her fellow telepath and Psi-cop Roberta Yang.

Coming to this world of Humans was more of a shock than she had anticipated. For one thing, their obvious differences in the way they dressed and their mannerisms weren't noticed. Their gloves and the PsiCorps insignia meant nothing to these people. The usual nervousness and occasional fearful glances directed at any telepath were conspicuously absent. When discovered that they were telepathic, people here assumed that they were either Betazoid, a new species of very Human-like Humanoids whose first contact had happened barely ten years earlier, or some other Humanoid species with extra senses. The Humans here didn't consider telepathy a form of power, only a gift that others didn't share like better eyesight or hearing. It took away some of the mystery and power that PsiCorps had worked so hard to cultivate on their Earth. That revelation had been somewhat surprising and vaguely infuriating.

Alfred Bester, Tony Batie, along with the mundanes were traveling by starship to the colony world of Kitara Three where the crews of the _Springfield_ and the survivors of the EarthForce Hyperion _Farlin_ were sequestered. The blips were also there along with an already established Federation colony. There had been reports that the Earth Alliance colonists and blips didn't want to return home after the war was over, being very content to stay where they were. Earth Alliance had issues with that since they were EA citizens and not Feds. She didn't know of the details as to how the blips got there, what they were doing living in the presence of mundanes without support, or where their particular place of escape was located in home space but that was Alfred's and Tony's problem to deal with. And, she had faith in their efficiency.

But in this place, everywhere was the same, Humans with aliens on this Earth going on with their business seemingly without a care in the world. There was no feeling of fears invasion or imminent death. The people were relaxed and the feelings in the air were not those of desperation and fear, but of comfort, the exact opposite of what was happening on Earth – home.

In between meetings with the Feds and Earth Alliance officials, she found the time to visit this world's India. Despite her attempts at objectivity she was nearly overwhelmed by the experience. Many of the landmarks were the same. The sights and smells of home were right here, sixty thousand light-years away. But just as the similarities were familiar, she couldn't ignore the differences either. She was a stranger here, surrounded by a mixture of the traditional and the high tech more advanced than her own home, and far less crowded, something that she understood intellectually but was still something of a jolt seeing it personally.

She found herself in a neighborhood eerily similar to place where she grew up. Some of the buildings were the same-almost. And the people, the same class, something that hadn't changed either here or at home occupied the same streets and some of those similarities brought forth memories that she had tried hard to suppress over the years. She was a telepath, someone to be feared and even hated by her own family all because she was superior to them in every way. Her blood brothers and sisters were afraid of her, hadn't wanted to be around her. Her father loved her but being a somewhat secretive and private man, stayed away from her as much as he could. Her mother had doted on her other children, leaving her alone and isolated. She never really understood why but her older sister hated her with a passion.

Once, Shika went wild and savagely beat her with a stick. Arati suffered a broken arm and her parents said nothing to her. Instead Shika's excuses had been accepted and Arati discovered that she'd never fit in. She had never read her sister's mind but no one believed her, not even her father. When PsiCorps came to collect her at age seven she was more than happy to leave and never looked back. The child that was Arati was lost to her family forever.

Here she was stunned to see that her family at home had a counterpart here. Her father looked the same but a bit younger. It was shocking and the implications were not dismissed. She couldn't help herself and anger and memories succumbed to curiosity. She introduced herself and although speaking with a stranger, she expected the same reaction. Her father's counterpart had seen her before on the video broadcasts, telling her that she reminded him of someone but couldn't tell who. It turned out to be his younger daughter. Compelled to do so, she spent the rest of the day unloading her soul to the stranger with her father's face. He was exactly like her father – and nothing like him at all. He had even allowed her to scan him and she did, seeing the echo of her father within him, anxious but no fear. It frightened her. He asked her to remove her gloves so that he could see the hands of a daughter he never had. She thought about it, but in the end couldn't do it.

The Corps was mother. The Corps was father.

At the end of the day she said her goodbyes and silently swore never to return. Crying was never acceptable for one of her status and she cursed this world for its corrupting influence. She understood now, why the blips wanted to stay in this place. The seduction was so strong; the need to be accepted for what one was even stronger.

The meeting with this Earth's telepaths was to take place in San Diego California of their former USA. The trip from France to the USA took about an hour. Arati spent the hour reading old history of the Xindii attack on this Earth. The attack had been savage, the scars still present. It was something she wanted to see. She didn't know why but she needed to have some sort of connection to this world. Earth Alliance had been on its knees while this world prospered. Those wounds showed that this planet wasn't invincible and immune to its enemies. Irrationally, those thoughts made some part of her feel better. She couldn't afford to be controlled by her emotions.

She and Roberta stepped off of the air vehicle and stared in awe of the skyline. Now this was different than their world. The 'great quake' had happened here. Fully half of the city had been destroyed and eventually rebuilt. But there were buildings stretching across the pacific surrounding what had been the rest of the city. Small, connected islands dotted the area and on top of them were twenty and thirty story buildings connected to one another. Ten minutes from the airport they arrived at a small but elegant hotel.

_**The Solar Le Clément hotel: Napoleon Au Claire Suite-Paris**_

"…_In other news, the energy ribbon that destroyed three El-Aurian refugee ships in the sol system four months earlier has moved beyond Federation borders at high warp speed. Scientists still have no idea what the apparently natural phenomenon is or how it slows to sublight or accelerates to high warp speed. If the mechanics can be understood, it has been speculated that new energy sources and avenues of faster than light travel may be discovered…" _

"I've discovered a headache, yes?"

Centauri Ambassador Londo Mollari turned off the news, and flopped down in the oversized yet supremely comfortable lounge chair conveniently pointed in the direction of the transparent aluminum window overseeing the city of Paris. Normally, the transparent material was used on their starships and other critical areas but for places requiring extra security transparent aluminum was the material of choice. The room the Federation had provided his people with was as magnificently decadent as the hotel's architecture.

No, that wasn't correct, Londo thought with some amusement. He had to revise that definition of this suite. This was decadence – with style. The Emperor would have been satisfied with these accommodations. That brat Cartagia- and thank the Great Maker that he was nowhere near here! – would have found little to complain about. Even his three wives, appropriately nicknamed by him, Pestilence, Famine, and Death well, maybe two of them, not Death as she was never satisfied, would have been suitably impressed. Plus these Humans kept feeding him as though he had multiple stomachs, forcing his body to gain pounds just as some of the others had in his entourage.

The room's view was magnificent and that view simply enhanced his feeling of satisfaction at the conclusion of the day's events. And incidentally the negotiations for that particular material had come a lot easier than he imagined. The Emperor was going to be beside himself with joy for his beloved Ambassador.

Beloved ambassador. Yes, beloved…now. Satisfaction with today's events turned a bit sour as unwanted memories rose unbidden.

He was Ambassador to Earth Alliance because no one had originally wanted it when it had been offered so many years ago. His fellow nobles laughed behind his back at his position just as so many had laughed at the Old Lion. The Centauri Republic had turned into a joke in the last hundred years. There was no more interest in exploration, little to no respect, and maybe even outright hatred from the Non-Aligned races. Lethargy had taken hold which was slowly but surely rotting the core of the Centauri people. To his dismay, he had not garnered respect from his own people in the position that the Emperor had given him and he hated that. Earth considered a rising power in those days and there he had been, bartering with the Earthers for trinkets, latching onto them because they reminded his people of what they '_used'_ to be; an emerging power –

– Young Lions…

It seemed like such a long time ago. Humans. Stupidity and arrogance nearly brought the Earthers towards extinction and he had tried to warn them, even felt sorry for them when the Minbari came down on them like a roaring, flaming mountain. Then the Federation arrived, a result of arrogance and stupidity originating from the other side and Londo's entire life changed in an instant. Gone were those horrific dreams of emperorship and strangulation by some ugly Narn assassin. The dreaming had change for a selected few. Those whom knew of their deaths saw something new. From the reports he wasn't the only one who's 'dreams' changed so radically. And there had been rumors of some Centauri going mad because of the new dreaming nightmares they suffered some.

With the coming of the Federation, the disrespect by the other great houses of Centauri Prime disappeared. Gone was the negative stigma of being the ambassador to a race of infants. Members of various influential and prominent houses had tried to steal the now-coveted position from him. But the emperor had held firm. The Great Houses were besides them with envy.

That envy, he had to admit, was something he treasured. That envy improved his houses' standing among the nobles. But with such recognition came enemies, houses Alurn and Refa were chief among them. However, Count Refa had committed an error early on. With his suggestion that the Emperor should have tried to capture one of the visiting Federation ships, he had lost favor and now he was paying for it, all of which made Londo even happier.

"Cartyin," he yelled. "Celebration is in order. I need a drink. Make me an Orion haymaker." People thought he was a simple drunkard. True, he did like to imbibe but that never stopped his mind from working.

Cartyin quickly appeared bringing one of Londo's favorite drinks he had discovered here on this world. It was called Saurian brandy blended with an Earther-made drink 'Old Grandad', a delicious drink if ever there was one. The mere smell of it brought a smile to his lips.

And this was another one of those things he liked about the Federation. They had so many different alcoholic drinks that even he had trouble cataloging them all. Hundreds of variations from hundreds of different worlds had kept him and the other Centauri busy for the last week during their time off from negotiations. It took a week for the Centauri contingent to sample everything and make recommendations according to type. The wines were good according to color and were very similar to Earth Alliance varieties although he could taste subtle differences. The whiskies, brandies and rums ranged from bland to delightful. A couple of the Klingon whiskies served in ugly metal cups were disgusting but oddly flavorful. If you wanted something that could start one singing Centauri opera even if you didn't know the words, then those beverages were just the thing.

The so-called beers ranged from horribly weak to full-bodied ones that could make your hair relax. Privately he requested several of the weaker ones for the younglings of his family. The five year olds would tolerate them quite nicely. Their mothers wouldn't have to water them down.

Cartyin, a rather smaller male ten years younger than Londo was experienced enough to bring two glasses instead of one. Londo was a drinker and one simply would not do. Londo downed the first drink quickly and then burped with pleasure. He loved it when his stomach stood up and took notice of what he was drinking especially when it was good. That was something he loved besides being called 'beloved ambassador' by the Emperor. Of course, anything that was loved had to be protected. And the cash cow, using the Earther phrase, as something he had every intention of cultivating and maintaining as long as possible.

Thinking about the future, he took another long sip of his favorite earth-based blend. Slurping wildly, he flopped back into his seat, his feet momentarily lifting straight up. "These Earthers know how to show us a good time, eh?" he said to Cartyin.

The servant simply nodded, not wanting to say anything lest he got into a long-winded conversation with the ambassador. He had places to go, the city to see and he didn't want to be bothered right now. Fortunately, there was a very formidable excuse waiting for an audience with his master.

"These Humans are more interesting than I had expected," he blandly answered. Actually he had never associated with Humans before he came to this world on one of their ships. He found it most compelling but duties had stranded him here serving with this most annoying of Centauri. Well that was about to change quickly. "I must inform you that there is someone waiting to speak to you."

"Well," a half-sloshed Londo roared, "let them in."

"But, sir, I must…"

"Cartyin, let them in before they think I am an ungracious host and move us to a less glorious suite! We cannot allow that to happen. I've seen ships smaller than our bathrooms here and it's a luxury I do not want to squander!"

The servant nodded. "As you wish, Ambassador." There was no talking to him when he was like this. He moved to the door suppressing a slight shudder. "Introducing Admiral Suruek of the Federation, and Starfleet Commander Mira Romaine, Federation consultant specialist, and G'Kar of the Narn régime."

Surprised at the announcement that a Narn was about to come into his presence, Londo jumped up straightening his hair and clothing. He hated Narns with a passion as did most Centauri, however with the addition of two Starfleeters these impromptu meeting had to be important. Looking at the somber-looking Narn who was barely trying to conceal his hatred of him, Londo had to suppress a frown of his own.

"Come in," he announced to the two Starfleeters while studiously ignoring the Narn. The others entered quickly, but G'Kar lingered for a moment before stepping inside. The looks playing across his face was enough to want Londo to grab a weapon. There was a cold fear now as dreams long forgotten surfaced. That face…he could never forget.

It was him! The one that was clutching at his throat, cutting off his breath even as he struggled to do the same. Dreams that were dreams no more. It took real strength to speak to him and he surprised himself by acting civil. "Sit down. Would you like something to drink?" _'Cyanide for the Narn here, yes?'_

"No, thank you," the Vulcan said.

Londo eyed the Vulcan carefully. This particular one was tall, a characteristic of his people. His close-cropped hair was filled with gray, an indication of age possibly over one-hundred years. He wasn't sure how long this species lived. His brown eyes moved around the room cataloging everything. He sat stiffly as if he preferred to be standing one could never tell about them. They kept their emotions in check to the point of absurdity.

The female was beautiful if not somewhat old. Her blue eyes were bright and striking, but there was something about her that indicated that she'd seen too much and had experienced horrors that no one should have been witness to. Her dark brown hair was streaked with gray as well but she'd kept her figure in her age and she was pleasant to look at. The question was, why were they there?

"And what can I do for you gentlemen and lady?"

"You can die," G'Kar muttered loud enough for everyone to hear.

"You first," was Londo's immediate retort.

"Gentlemen," Commander Romaine quickly interrupted. "We would like to keep this impromptu meeting civil. That won't happen if you began by insulting each other."

"The Commander is correct," the Admiral said taking over. "We are here to attempt to open an unofficial channel of communication between your two governments to help avoid future hostilities before the official talks begin in two days. Officially, the Centauri Republic and Narn Régime have no diplomatic avenues available. Therefore we are here to facilitate unofficial talks between the two governments. The Narn Régime has expressed an interest in applying for membership into the Federation and will receive terra-forming equipment and support from the Federation to repair the damage done to their war by your people, Ambassador." Londo grimaced. "The Centauri," the Vulcan continued, "have just signed an agreement to mine and transport as much quantium-40 as they wish in return for renting to the Federation space now occupied by the space station _Becerra Alpha One_ in Centauri territory. The Federation therefore has a vested interest in maintaining the peace between both of our allies."

"Tell that to them!" Londo cried.

"See what we are forced to deal with!" snapped G'Kar. With every breath they take, a lie tries its best to escape from the Centauri lips."

"They are the ones who are constantly trying to instigate a war. We want peace but it's impossible with these savages running around attacking innocent people and spread outrageous lies to anybody that will even listen to them!"

"Logically, it is in both your interests to come to an acceptable conclusion that will be of benefit and profitable to both of your governments. If the Narn Régime wished to become part of the Federation the Federation will take care of its own, but not if you precipitate a war between your neighbors."

G'Kar smiled. "We would never start a war with the Centauri, but we would most certainly end it."

"I do not understand you people," Londo snarled. "You can see what they are! Why would you want them to be a part of your so-called glorious Federation? Trusting them…it-it would be like placing a snake in your own pockets."

"If we become part of the Federation, we would never do anything to jeopardize our newfound –wealth – or our allies."

"And why would you want these creatures and not the Republic?" roared Londo. "We might be interested in joining if only to make sure that the Narn will not abuse their newfound alliance and influence their allies to turn against us!"

"They don't want you," the Narn responded. "You're too violent a species."

"The Emperor has given me the right to negotiate for the Centauri people," Londo said carefully, not liking what he was about to say. But this G'Kar person was infuriating him and he needed to strike back and what he was thinking would do quite nicely. "I demand the right of petition to develop closer ties to the Federation and possibly authorize proceedings for the Centauri Republic to join the United Federation of planets."

"They wouldn't want you," snapped a stunned G'Kar. "I am surprised that your people can even fly straight when you're not trying to conquer your neighbors. The Centauri are too untrustworthy as a whole and your whole race drinks too much."

"We were in space before your people understood that the stars weren't little candles lighting up the sky."

"And we all know how that turned out. Destruction. Mayhem."

"I make no promises," Admiral Suruek announced, effectively forestalling the coming battle. "However, since the Federation has a vested interest in the Republic, I believe it will open talks with your people. Continued hostilities between your two governments however will most likely be view unfavorably. And there are other considerations."

"We would never do anything to damage relations with the Federation especially with what they're doing for my world," purred G'kar, "even if it means allowing the Centauri to ruin the lives of other innocent races."

"I am sure the Centauri people would agree if it will keep the Narn terrorists in line."

Admiral Suruek repressed a sigh. "Am I to understand that you two enemies are willing to become allies in order to keep an eye on one another?"

"Yes," G'Kar said, hating the fact that he did so.

"Yes," Londo echoed, hating the fact that he couldn't say no.

"The illogic of it all."

"Yes, Admiral," Mira whispered. "How very Vulcan and Andorian of them."

"Wait! What considerations?"

_**Minbar**_

Snow covered the land lying under the gray cloud-veiled sky. Winter-blackened trees stood naked in scattered groups across the land. The whispering silence was broken when a car appeared over the crest of a hill. It moved over the snow without wheels, relying on antigravity for locomotion. The only evidence of its passage was the single track of pressed snow left in the car's wake. Inside it rode three Minbari.

"You know what they'll do."

The man manning the craft's controls grunted at the first man's comment. "They'll send troops after us, Kodell. They're probably hard on our trail already."

Kodell bowed his head briefly, closing his eyes for a moment while the car skimmed over the rolling snow-clad hills. "I believe you gave them added incentive to find us, Draal."

The middle-aged man scoffed as he idly touched his beard. The black beard was shot through with flecks of gray. "Forcing the Council—any government—to be forthcoming is normally a foolish endeavor. Normally."

The sole Minbari woman chimed in. "If we are falling off a mountain, we may as well try to fly."

Draal chuckled. "Well said, Shaal Mayan. Unfortunately, we are not poets. But I believe we understand what you mean."

Kodell looked over his shoulder at Draal. "But was the action at the temple necessary? In Valen's name, we went too far."

There was silence until Mayan spoke. "We were not aware that the priest would do it until he did."

Kodell turned back to his vehicle controls. In his mind's eye, he and the others were back at the Ranger Temple in Yedor.

-+-

The magnificent crystalline carved temple stood in a corner of the Eternal City, flanked by waterfalls. Since the disappearance of the Rangers, the Ashen took possession of the temple as a base of operations on Minbar. In front of the temple, white-robed Minbari male and female acolytes gathered along with passersby. It was to be a peaceful demonstration against the perceived Ashen's now blatant attempted domination of Minbari government and against the cruelties of a war that was quickly being named "Linn ra'Tuzanae"—'The War of Sorrows.' Kodell was there, hoping that the demonstration would force a divulgement of information that he wanted. There were hecklers as well, denouncing the demonstrators as traitors to Minbar, to the memory of Dukhat and to the Vorlons.

Two acolytes and a priest separated themselves from the demonstrators, walking into the emptiness between the demonstration and the temple. An acolyte placed a cushion on the ground while the other carried a large can. The priest turned around and addressed the people.

"Before I close my eyes and move towards the vision of Valen, I respectfully plead the Grey Council to take a mind of compassion towards the people of Minbar and heed our complaints. I call upon the people to organize in solidarity to preserve Minbar before the actions of the ones holding the Council hostage cause our world to burn."

Finishing the address, the priest calmly seated himself on the cushion, crossing his legs. The second acolyte emptied the contents of the can over the third's head. A sharp smell wafted over the square in front of the Ranger Temple. Many in the crowd recognized the smell to be oil. While this was being done, the priest prayed and recited the words of homage to Valen. He struck a match and dropped it on himself. All too quickly, flames rushed all over the priest's seated body, consuming his white robe and flesh, black oily smoke emanating from his still calmly seated body.

Kodell was too shocked and too confused to react, too bewildered to even think. Behind him, he could hear many Minbari sobbing. As the priest burned, he never moved a muscle, never uttered a sound, his outward appearance in sharp contrast with the increasing wailing of the people around him. Flames were consuming a living person; his body was slowly withering and shriveling up, his head blackening and charring. In the air was the smell of burning flesh. It seemed that sentient beings burned surprisingly quickly.

The spectators were mostly stunned into silence by the unexpected event, but some wailed and several began praying. Soon, the law-guardians appeared wielding denn'boks, fighting staffs. The crowd turned to struggle with the guardians. While this was happening, the burning monk's body toppled forward and the fire subsided.

Ashen warriors appeared at the gate beneath the temple's large stained glass window. As they advanced toward the crowd, Draal grabbed Kodell's arm and urged him to leave the area. Kodell agreed. The demonstration was devolving into a riot. Taking Mayan's arm, Kodell went with Draal through the surging crowd.

-+-

Now they were fleeing in the hover-car over the southern frozen lands of Nocalo, the primary southern continent of Minbar and home of the two primary cities of Yedor and Tuzanor.

"Why do we make for the Nath'Kan Cloister in Dra'shur Province, Kodell?" asked Draal. "Will we not be better served finding refuge elsewhere? For example, the cities of Sikar and Drogani in the Southern Polar Region. Or even your ancestral estate at Ker'Shan Castle in Sujenn Province."

Mayan answered for Kodell. "Don't be concerned. There is no better refuge."

"Kodell?" pressed Draal.

"The cloister will serve its purpose." Kodell's reply ended the discussion.

"Kodell, Draal," said Mayan, pointing at a window. "A shrine."

On a hill, there was a squat stone building the size of a small hut. A stone obelisk standing beside the shrine bore inscriptions announcing that in this place, Valen once confronted bandits and persuaded them to join the Anla'shok.

In silence, the car passed the empty stone shrine.

Fear was beginning to take hold in the very hearts of the people. The war had changed Minbar. The very people, themselves secured and complacent in their belief of their superiority, were being consumed by fear. A thousand years of control was being shattered like the frailest of glass. The Ashen, the hated Humans and their allies…

The losses….

The deaths of so many with more certainly to come was eating at the very soul of Minbar and no one, not the Grey Council, not the religious or warrior castes, not the Ashen seemed to know what to do to avoid the coming storm.

To be continued to those who saw 'final' in the title originally-sorry about that...


	8. Chapter 8

_Note: chapters seven, eight, and nine are directly related to chapters sixty-six, sixty-seven and chapter sixty-eight of ATV. And to the ATV team -bless you. And to Sammy, stop hiding in the basement. Your mother can still find you... _

_**Chapter Eight: **_

"_**Differences and opinions"**_

**Tuileries Palace Museum, Paris, Earth**

Guinan was aware of the artworks on display in the palace museum, but she wasn't really seeing them. She was sorely aware of how much Earth had preserved and how much was lost to the Borg. Martus was being a good son, trying to distract her from her depression. Meanwhile, he was speaking while he guided her through the crowds.

"Look at that. Amazing what these Humans could do in the past. Look at this palace. From the brochures, it seems that the Tuileries was burned and destroyed in the 19th century and the Humans rebuilt it to accommodate the expansion that the Louvre needed in the 21st century. You were on Earth several times before, right, Mother? What names did you use?"

She mumbled, "Guinan, Gloria, Claranna." Thinking of those names made her remember 19th century San Francisco. Samuel Clemens, the jaundice-looking android Data, Jean-Luc Picard.

Picard. Guinan frowned at the name. The bald man had claimed to be a starship captain from the 24th century. And he knew her. She had told no one of the experience and it was only now that she remembered it. If Captain Picard met and knew her, then she was alive and well in the 24th century.

Could that mean she won't go into the Nexus?

A shadow came over her mind and Guinan raised a hand over her eyes. The memory felt discordant, as if it no longer fit. She didn't know why, exactly, but she knew that the future is not fixed, written in stone. The Nexus may have all the answers she could ever have. She sighed, not really seeing a statue that Martus was pointing out. The statue was of a nude winged female with no arms or head. Dimly in her mind, she remembered it as the famous Winged Victory of Samothrace. Ruined victory.

Guinan noticed another entourage moving through the museum crowds. It was unusual to see FNN reporters in the mix. But she did recognized a suited man in the entourage; a professor and a scientist from the Earth Alliance. Guinan roused herself from her despondence to listen to the man talking. She rarely suffered idiots. Not when idiots were like Dr. Amir Rajiv Khali. He reminded her of Samuel Clemens but without the realism.

"Thanks to the Federation's help," Dr. Khali was saying loudly as he passed the El-Aurians, "the Earth Alliance will usher in a new order among the worlds. Peace in our time. Salvation from chaos."

"You're too late," Guinan said dismissively. "The worlds of the Federation are at peace. There is no chaos in Federation affairs."

Khali turned at the voice and scowled at its source. The entourage halted its progress through the museum, becoming an audience to the latest Khalian spat. "Madame, you forget yourself. I have objectively studied the workings of the regions you call the Alpha and Beta Quadrants. I know the true condition of the Federation. Treaty disputes, planets on the brink of war, inefficient resource allocation—the Federation is just a duplicate of a combination of the League of Non-Aligned Worlds and the Centauri Republic without slavery. The Federation is crying out for order. Nothing is different except the auspicious presence of the Earth Alliance."

Guinan looked at the Earther with barely hidden exasperation. "Professor Khali, no planet in the Federation has been on the brink of war for decades. You're thinking of the non-aligned worlds in the Alpha and Beta Quadrants. Granted, there was anxiety during the Praxis Crisis but the Gorkon Initiative and the Regulus attack created peace and alliance between the Federation and the Klingon Empire. As for treaty disputes, they are a given in any collection of thriving civilizations. The wants and needs of cultures change from generation to generation. The Federation exists to accommodate those changes in the most peaceful and equitable manner, and its citizens do. And however inefficient its allocation of resources is, they do a better job of it today than they did ten years ago, and they will be doing a better job again ten years in the future. The Federation is not static, which is what gives its peoples their strength. The Earth Alliance is very much like the old United States during its period of empire in the 20th and 21st centuries and we know how that ended," she added for emphasis.

Khali frowned. It had taken him a few moments but he remembered her face, something to do with a refugee ship and energy disturbance? Yes, that was it. Another Human-like species aping the real Humanity. "You're just a refugee from a destroyed world who came here only weeks ago. How can you know of the Federation and the Earth Alliance so much?"

That caused Martus to scowl at the Earther's lack of tact. He could see two younger Humans, clearly Khali's students, looking alarmed. But Guinan only smiled. The smile reminded the Earther professor so much of the Mona Lisa painting he had recently seen in the Louvre Museum. "I know many things."

"I don't know what you really are or how you came to your knowledge but no matter how the Federation overshadows the Earth Alliance, it is reaching its Khaldunian structural cohesion limit and its Malthusian limit. The Federation will have its reckoning." Smirking, he fully expected the woman to be silenced. Few people knew of those theories and being an outside, the chances that she knew of those theories was small to non-existent.

"If I recall Thomas Malthus' theory correctly," she responded smiling, causing his smirk to falter slightly, "the Federation is breaking out of the Malthusian trap now. Have you seen the breakthroughs in replicator technology? The people will no longer be limited by the food subsistence of their worlds and therefore the population will increase exponentially." Guinan's smile stretched wider. "If the Federation's political organization is like your Earth Alliance, I would agree that it is overextending its territory, and secessions, rebellions and even civil wars will occur shortly, as you theorize. Kind of like what happened at New Jerusalem, Cyrus 3 and Mars in the Earth Alliance."

Khali scowled, not liking Guinan's insinuation about his home. He recovered by dismissively saying, "pains of progress."

She smirked again like a boxer who knew something his opponent didn't. "The Federation is not so centrally organized. Ibn Khaldun's sociological theory is limited to nations that have a central core culture or a central dominant race. The Federation's very nature precludes it from having either. Like I mentioned previously, the Federation is not static. It changes to accommodate the needs of its worlds and of itself. In this part of the galaxy, Humanity has been and is still maturing. It has outgrown anything that the Earth Alliance might have and corporate-driven politics have no place among them anymore."

Doctor Khali looked around at the people in sarcastic amazement as they regarded the El-Aurian with new-found respect. "A philosophical debate about the Federation's _maturity_? When it has starships with weapons enough to destroy _entire_ planets? I've seen the broadcasts. If they weren't propaganda, the Federation arsenal even includes _planetkillers_!" The Earther turned back to Guinan. "Madame, this is an argument I am destined to win for one very simple, very self-evident reason."

"Which is?" The damnable El-Aurian woman was all sweet innocence and curiosity.

"General Order twenty-four."

_**Minbar**_

Kodell thought about his life as they passed the shrine. He was of the Clan Mir and of the Religious Caste, though his father was of the Warrior Caste. Kodell ra'Mir was also the father of Delenn ra'Mir. Shortly before the war, he was proud when his daughter was chosen to be an acolyte to the Grey Council. When Dukhat died and the war began, he devoted himself to the pursuit of victory by helping to focus the Minbari economy upon its war footing. Doubts began when it was discovered that the Torrbari, as the Minbari called the Earthers, had no hope of resisting the Minbari onslaught. Kodell wondered if the path he walked upon proved to be a false one.

Then the UFOpers came.

Kodell's people fell back.

Then the Vorlons came. As Dukhat once said, '_if anyone had doubts about the course of life, all one need to do was to look into the face of a Vorlon and all doubt is erased forever_'. But the war still raged on.

Then the Ashen came.

The Minbari blood-soul was unleashed.

The enemy unimpressed but angered responded, and the Minbari fell back.

The war escalated until it became a slaughter of ships and worlds.

The doubts grew.

Once, the Minbari people did not question the sacrifices. They had been loyal to the Grey Council for a thousand years. It was the way of things. Once, the Council was wise and just. But now it was possessed by the madness and desperation of the war. It has placed a death sentence upon the Torrbari, the UFOpers and their allies because they defied it. Entire colonies were burned to ash. No one was sure if it was because of hatred, fear or desperation that caused the council to respond in such a manner. It was unlike the Grey Council to do so. Therefore, some people began to wonder if the war was right, to even wonder if the Ashen held the Council in thrall.

The Minbari were a people of loyalty and duty. They were taught from birth that they were to follow the Grey Council and obey its edicts without question. It had always been so. Yet what is the true nature of loyalty? Was Kodell most loyal if he blindly obeyed the Council, even though it may well lead Minbar to ruin? Or was there a greater loyalty in defying the Council and in doing so, spare Minbar from the destruction promised by the Warlord Kirk? Minbari lives were ruled by tradition. Without it, they were as a rudderless craft tossed upon heaving seas. Tradition bonded them to those who had come before, and to those who would come after. Tradition preserved who they were, and so must be preserved.

Tradition demanded obedience. But if that obedience leads to destruction, is not tradition destroyed as well? The logic was inescapable. If Kodell would help save Minbar, he must be a heretic.

That was the weight upon Kodell. Could he stand idle while Minbar plunges toward oblivion? Kodell learned the code of the Warrior Caste when he was barely old enough to hold a denn'bok. It demanded death before dishonor. Can the same be true of a whole world? An entire people? Minbar was the most beautiful of all the worlds in the known galaxy, bright blue-white gem set in black. Minbar was a mountain capped in white, even in summer. Raked pebbles in a dry garden, the reflection of a crystal tower as it rose out of the water, the light refracting upon the crystalline hull of a war cruiser.

Minbar was all these things. Before Valen, the planet had often been scarred by the ugliness of war, fields of flowers drowned in blood and trampled by the hooves of war steeds. Now that specter raised its ugly head in the form of the 'War of Sorrows' and the Warlord Kirk's threat of planetary destruction. Was the Council willing to inflict such terrible wounds upon Minbar, however remote that possibility? Death before dishonor? Unconditional surrender or genocide of the Minbari people?

These were the questions that haunted him and undoubtedly many others.

It was the people who would suffer, especially the Workers. It was they who bear the brunt of everything. Rulers all too often forget that the people are the basis of their power and society. Had Minbar's rulers forgotten the people? All will be touched by what is to come. The future was crouched just over the horizon, nearly upon the Minbari people and yet hidden from Kodell. His world faced either a final twilight or a new dawn. He knew not which.

Wishing for clarification, Kodell had sought out his daughter only to be rebuffed by the ministries surrounding the Council. He then sought out Delenn's teacher, the philosopher Draal, hoping that he would connect Kodell with his friend and former student Rathenn who was rumored to be working directly for the Grey Council. That was also in vain. It also further convinced him of the Ashen's influence upon the Council and their role in Minbar's impending doom.

Hence the path that Kodell ra'Mir, Draal and Shaal Mayan were treading. The car crested a pass through steep hills.

"We've arrived," announced Kodell.

Draal squinted at what Kodell was looking at. "That?" He laughed. "Oh, I think that will do nicely."

A rocky island stood just off the shore. Except from the pass through which they passed, cliffs dominated the shore and a rough sea crashed upon them. Stone buildings stood upon the island, contained within a high stone wall. A slender bridge went from the island to the shore. The wind-swept island looked very alone.

Kodell said, "Nath'Kan Cloister. It will protect us for a time."

At the enclosure gate, white-clad and veiled nuns greeted Kodell and his friends with bows.

While the nuns did their ceremonial greetings, Draal whispered, "Mayan? Have you been to this place before?"

"On occasion, Draal. When Delenn was five years old, her mother joined the Sisters of Valeria. The Clan Mir was honored by the joining and used part of its fortune to build Nath'Kan Cloister. The Clan Mir is well loved by the Sisters."

"I wonder if they will be so welcoming once they learn what Kodell brings down upon them."

The chief of the Sisters was speaking. "Your presence showers peace upon these walls, Kodell ra'Mir."

"Perhaps not, Reverend Mother. I thank you for your reception, Sisters. But I fear I bring ill fortune." With that, Kodell explained his doubts, his need for his daughter, his search for answers which had culminated in the events at the Ranger Temple in Yedor. He finished with "I feel certain that warriors, either sent by the Council or the Ashen, will seek me. I knew of nowhere else I could find sanctuary on Minbar."

The Sisters gazed upon Kodell until the Reverend Mother said, "your wife is one of us. The Clan Mir has provided us this cloister. You and your friends are welcome here whether you bring good fortune or ill."

Kodell bowed in gratitude. "Thank you."

The Reverend Mother smiled. "Kodell, there is someone you should meet, particularly if you have issues to struggle with." With that, the woman stood aside to reveal another white-robed Sister. "This is Sister Callenn ra'Valir. She is newly returned from Khonvah Province in the south."

The Sister bowed and raised her veil, revealing her face. "I am pleased to meet you, Kodell ra'Mir."

Kodell was surprised. "Callenn?" he whispered loudly as he returned the Sister's bow.

"I came here hoping I would have a chance to do so."

"Truly? Why so, Callenn?"

"There is much we should discuss, Kodell. Your companions must be road weary. We should let them rest. Come walk with me."

Draal watched the Sister walking away with Kodell. "Shaal Mayan, he seems to know her. Who is she?"

Mayan was as surprised at Callenn's presence as Kodell. "She was once Kodell's wife. And she is Delenn's mother."

Draal stared at Callenn's receding back in wonder.

"How is our daughter, Kodell?"

Kodell stared down at the fishes swimming in a pond. "I do not know."

When the woman beside him nodded for him to continue, he said, "when I began to doubt the Grey Council and the war, I tried to reach Delenn. At first, the Ministry of Information was willing to relay my message to Delenn. Then they refused to get in touch with her and told me to stop trying."

Callenn smiled up at Kodell fondly. "You didn't stop."

"No. I enlisted the aid of Delenn's old teacher, Draal, and her childhood friend, Shaal Mayan. I contacted other ministries. They seem to be under orders to not allow me or any of the others to contact the higher levels of government, including the Grey Council. That seems to be true ever since the Ashen came."

"So your search for our daughter led you to more questions about our government and about the war."

"Yes. The Vorlons and the Grey Council seem to be…" Kodell took a deep breath before continuing. "…lying."

Callenn turned to gaze upon the fish-filled pond in the monastery garden. "Oh?" was all that she said.

Kodell thought he understood her laconic response. The accusation was a most serious one. Lying was a serious taboo in Minbari society and would blacken one's entire clan. If a government lies, then it would blacken its entire nation, stain its honor and purity. He still could not believe that the Grey Council or, worse, the Vorlons would do it. "You are aware of the Torrbari notion of "the press," are you not?"

She nodded. "A fascinating, but troubling concept."

He agreed wholeheartedly. "In our society, if there is something we need to know, we are told just what we require and no more. It is tradition. The Torrbari news media's incessant curiosity seems to be necessary to them, but we respect the privacy of others by not prying into their affairs. To express undue curiosity…."

"Yet you are expressing undue curiosity," Callenn chided softly.

Kodell looked down, ashamed. "Yes, Callenn. Using clandestine receivers, I often learn things about us before I am told what I need to know and no more. And what I have learned is…troubling. That is why I am forced to come to the conclusion that the Council and the Vorlons are lying." He pointed at the pond. "Once I would have seen this as a reflection of divine harmony. Now it is merely a pond. The Vorlons revealed their true nature and they are not as I once saw them. Despite wisdom to the contrary, they appear to have decided that the war was to be denn'shah, a fight to the death." He looked up at a statue of a Minbari saint. "They are false."

Callenn gazed up at her former husband with understanding. "You feel betrayed. Have you not considered that perhaps it is not the Vorlons that are false but your beliefs? That perhaps those you thought of as like unto the gods of old are not like the gods at all but beings just as fallible as us?"

Kodell looked up to his former wife. "Curious. Is not such a statement blasphemous coming from a Sister of Valeria?"

She looked back down at the pond. "We are infinitely more powerful than these fish that swim in the pond. Their existence is at our whim. But that does not make us gods." She looked over her shoulder at Kodell. "Tell me of our daughter, Delenn."

"I…you know my attempts to reach her. Until recently, the ministries' actions indicate that she is still with the Grey Council. But that has changed."

"She has disappeared."

Kodell was startled. He now looked at the Sister with wide eyes. "I have not told anyone of my suspicions. How can you know of that?"

"I know many things," she countered gently.

"When the Rangers began to disappear from our world, the ministries seemed to be in a panic. Once the disappearance was complete, the ministries have shut down upon any inquiries into Delenn's whereabouts. I then came to the conclusion that it is related to the Rangers."

"Is that also related to…the action at the Ranger Temple in Yedor?"

Again, Kodell looked at her in wonder. She smiled wryly. "You are not the only one with…undue curiosity."

"That action was…unexpected. In order to help in my quest for information about Delenn, Draal quietly organized a demonstration in the hopes that it would force the Grey Council to be forthcoming about the events and reasons surrounding the Rangers' disappearance, Delenn's apparent disappearance, and the Ashen's increasing influence upon the Minbari government and military. Mayan, out of her friendship with Delenn, helped as well. She reminded me of a family wisdom that we hold."

Callenn smiled fondly at a memory. "We have never known the truth or Delenn to speak only when it is appropriate."

"Exactly. But as you know, the demonstration has backfired."

"Yes." Now Callenn looked troubled. "The news of the priest's self-immolation has spread far and fast before the Information Ministry halted it." She looked up into her former husband's eyes. "It is not your motivation I question, Kodell. I question what you will do about the situation. You cannot hide here forever."

"No," Kodell conceded.

"So then, what will you do?" Callenn walked over to an incense brazier. "What has been put into motion will not easily be put to rest." She picked up the lid over the brazier, releasing incense smoke. "Easier to catch smoke set adrift on the air." Turning, she looked straight at Kodell. "You speak of disillusionment concerning the Vorlons and the Grey Council. Your need for Delenn led you to the disillusionment. But what will you do about that? Delenn, much as I hate to admit and accept it, is gone. You believe the Council has gone mad, do you not? That it is not the same Council as before the Vorlons and the Ashen came? You must decide whether you will stand idle while they continue to place Minbar at risk…or if you have the courage to affect a change in our society…even to break the Grey Council, as prophesied by Valen."

Kodell was stunned into silence. In his heart of hearts, he had entertained similar thoughts but he dared not admit them to himself. He was getting old and cared only about getting Delenn back. To hear such thoughts spoken by his former wife….

Eyes misting, he reached a hand toward Callenn. "A'fel E', sala."

'_I love you, wife'._

"A'fel E'," returned Callenn. She drew back before Kodell's fingers could touch her. She looked down to avoid his eyes. "But this cannot be anymore. I am a Sister."

Kodell sighed as he dropped his hand. She was right, as always. Though she had raised her veil to talk with him, the Sisterhood created a barrier much more solid than that of the veil and he could feel it. Not for the first time, he wondered why she joined the Sisters of Valeria when their daughter was five years old. He wondered when it would be prudent to press for answers about that.

Draal came into the garden. "Forgive me for interrupting, Kodell…"

Kodell and Callenn exchanged a long look of understanding before turning to Draal.

The bearded man continued. "…but the troops have arrived."

**Tuileries Palace Museum, Paris, Earth**

"I am sure that the learned Doctor Khali will enlighten us as to the definition of General Order twenty-four."

Khali's face darkened as he recognized the mockery. It didn't help that Martus barked a laugh at his mother's rejoinder. "Your precious Federation's admiralty has ordered the total destruction of the Minbari homeworld. That was in reaction to the Minbari audacity to resist the might of Starfleet and to defy the dreams of galactic order and progress. That is certainly a lesson that the member worlds and the independent nations will remember in their dealings with the Federation government."

Guinan sighed. "You're thinking of control. Control is an illusion, a very effective illusion, but an illusion nonetheless. The Federation is a result of the realization that its peoples could cooperate peacefully and equally while they spread among the stars like…like dandelion seeds blown on the winds, taking roots on distant planets." She shook her head. "It is tragically wrong to believe that the advancement of any species must proceed at the pace of its slowest members. If we were to believe that in order to make sure that societies do not fly apart, the dynamism so vital to civilization would be lost." A haunted look came into her eyes. "Or destroyed as my world was."

In spite of himself, Khali was curious. He had heard rumors. "What happened to your home world?"

The El-Aurian turned her head away as sorrow and anger twisted her face. "A soulless force that believes in order via total control swarmed my home system and destroyed my people. Most of my husbands and children were killed. My family was just one of many pushed to the brink of extinction." Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Still, I have to be thankful for those who survived. My parents, my son Martus, my sister Delcara, and a few others scattered across the galaxy."

A chill traveled down Khali's spine. It was as if he was listening to the story of his own Earth had the Federation not rescued it from the Minbari. "You could have gotten help, like we did."

She shook her head. "No. Never. If we did, anyone who helped, including the Federation, would have been destroyed as well. My planet has been carved up and is nothing more than an uninhabited world with craters where cities and towns once stood, with only the global transportation routes to show that a civilization once thrived on El-Auria. My people are a race of listeners and, by listening to the nature of our destroyers, we know we can never bring other civilizations to experience the same destruction."

"But…but that makes my theories all the more important! If we are to survive against such a terrible enemy, we must save the civilizations in this region and my region! Help them control themselves. Help convince the Federation to divert itself away from the path where it will shatter into smaller federations. If that happens, it won't be able to marshal all of its resources and might for the fight to come!"

Guinan scowled. "I refuse to be party to that. If survival is all that matters, then what's the point of living? Any organization interested in control will not be interested in the universe. How can an organization have control if progress and innovation can take their subjects beyond its influence? The dynamism that you are so blind to is vital to our prosperity, our advancement and ultimately…our survival." She looked straight into Khali's eyes. "Still, I fear that the Minbari War will end up bringing the Federation into contact with my world's destroyers before its time. I sincerely hope that the Federation will face the challenge with success. That's why I and my surviving colleagues chose to come here and appeal for asylum." Guinan laid a hand on her son's arm. "That's why we didn't choose to go to the Earth Alliance for refuge." With that, she turned away from Khali, taking Martus with her into the museum crowds.

Khali could only fume at the receding robed woman with dreadlocks cascading from under her turban.

"Mother," said Martus in wonder. "You're getting better."

Guinan's smile still held her sadness. "If we are to wait thirty-nine years, we must make the most of that time." Inside, she still desired the Nexus and she felt she could never forgive the Borg for their sins. Still, if Captain Picard was any indication in her memory, there's hope for her future. And there's much to do if she were to help Dr. Khali.

Now she had a mission as a Listener.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

**_Chapter Nine: _**

**"_Differences and Opinions-Part Two"_**

**_Le Bistro des Epicuriens du Marais restaurant:_**

The small group had been seated quickly at a small booth on the outside of the quaint café. The weather was gorgeous with hundreds of people both Human and alien moving back and forth, ignoring the visitors to their country greedily consuming their dinners.

"One thing is certain," Professor Amir Khali mused. "The France here on Terra is the same as on Earth," he said to his two students, "the '_real'_ Earth I am referring to of course." The thought of home made him smile wispily. Every university, every talk show would demand to have his as a quest speaker. God! What a glorious time that would be! His Sony-vocorder was filled with his notes and observations on parallel worlds and universal theories and their comparative sociological and their cultural relationships gleaned from his quick reviews of the conversations with the other unknown ships over three weeks earlier. He was already counting the money from the future book revenues at home. There was absolute certainty that the scholars throughout Earth Alliance and beyond would eat it up and he'd be set for life and the prestige he would glean from this visit would seal his mark in the annals of history. But there was one thought that troubled him and not just him but every individual that was intelligent enough to contemplate the question. "I cannot help but wonder what powers did this? Is Humanity that special to have so much attention drawn to it? Is this their idea of an obscene joke or is something else going on?"

None of those sitting had an answer to that, nor did he expect them to. Personally he suspected that they would never find out the reasons why in their lifetime. But for now it didn't matter. It was glorious and he wouldn't have missed this for the world – either world. He was enjoying himself at this wonderful recreation of the old, old restaurant at home. He marveled at it, being almost the same in every detail other than the fact that it was less exclusive than its counterpart. Unlike the one at home, this could serve up to one hundred at a time. However, like the one at home, the cuisine nouveau here was just as good, even if it had a bit more exotic menu. "How do you like your food, Mister Condari?"

"I find it acceptable," the Centauri answered as he shoved another spoonful of vegetables into his mouth. The mild breeze whipped around, forcing the Centauri to push his hair back into its original fan-like position. For a Centauri, his hair took utmost importance and he sculpted with an intensity that other Centauri would approve of.

"I am surprised that you didn't order it with the traditional wine sauce," Theresa stated and she mimicked his actions. She was enjoying herself as well. The looks she received from several patrons staring at her legs made the dinner worthwhile.

"I've had enough alcohol for one day," he answered somewhat indignantly. "Despite what you've been lead to believe, not all Centauri love to drink all of the time."

Theresa stopped, noticing the slight edge in his voice. Looking somewhat embarrassed, she realized her error. "I apologized if I've offended you," she quickly responded. The apology was heartfelt. She had no intention of hurting the Centauri's feelings.

Turo waved it off. "You have not offended me. Most of my people drink so I understand your confusion."

Khali allowed a small smirk to escape. His grad student deserved to be taken down a notch by someone besides himself. Besides he liked this particular Centauri. He was very respectable and some of his comments about this world were very insightful taken from an alien point of view. His moment of joy passed almost immediately as that – that woman came in and sat down two tables away from his own just as bold as you please.

It was her – Guinan, that evil witch who insulted his reputation on this world. Did she know he was here? She must have followed him here.

The way she smiled….of course she knew. All of a sudden the food didn't taste as good as it had a moment ago.

Now it was Theresa's turn to smirk which she did so, openly. "I've done a bit of research on her. Seems she is quite the '_acknowledged'_," and the young grad student emphasized the word, "_'philosopher'_ in these parts. Some of her admirers have nicknamed her 'the listener'."

"Such a humble title," he muttered slowly. Her open-faced smile served only to infuriate the professor. Oh, how he hated her and if it wasn't for her family's financial support he would have shoved a PPG up her…

His other grad assistant, Samuel Vernon simply tried to shrink into his chair and remain as invisible as possible. He hated being around the two of them when they went at it. It was like a love-hate relationship for sadists and when this trip was over he swore that he'd find some other professor to get an assistantship with because anything was better than this.

Meanwhile Rajiv decided that the best thing he could do for the moment was to ignore that no-taste dressing, Humanoid-looking woman and hope she didn't want to continue trying to prove that she was more intelligent than he was. "Mister Condari, I am aware that you know of my opinion concerning the problems facing this world, but I would like to hear your opinion about the conditions as you see them."

The Centauri impostor thought for a moment trying to form an answer that would satisfy the professor and the Humans around him. "If I may speak honestly," he began slowly, "it is my belief that this world has lost its direction. They are not like your people. These people are arrogant in their power. I think too arrogant, in my opinion. They have technology that surpasses even the Centauri and Minbari, but they have no soul to guide them in the direction they should go. It is that loss of direction that will destroy them, that and their arrogance in believing that they can destroy the Minbari and not face consequences."

That was a very religiously-based response and it surprised Khali. "What consequences do you mean," he asked. "Can you be more specific?"

"The people of this world, these Humans believe that the Minbari can't touch them," he said carefully. "But what if they can?"

"Condari," Theresa said. "You sound as if you're hoping that the Minbari can attack this world." The woman's gaze was intent, almost hostile."

"I am saying that the moment people feel secure in their power it is then that something unexpected happens," he carefully answered. "I believe you are right, professor," he whispered. "Even if Humanity wins the war against the Minbari, they will ultimately lose themselves. Even now, they are destroying themselves."

"On that I agree," Khali responded, pleased that someone understood where his own thoughts were traveling.

"I don't see it," Theresa said. "You've seen what they can do. These people haven't even hit their stride yet."

"Leave it to you my close-minded student, to miss the obvious. Humanity here is on the verge of destroying itself."

"I don't understand what you mean, Sir." As per usual, the word '_Sir'_ was spoken like a half curse. She was rewarded with her professor's grimace as she delayed the honorific just long enough for it to sound disrespectful. But it was the Centauri answered.

"These people have lost who and what they are. They are slowly becoming perversions of Humanity."

Khali nodded. "You've made a concise analysis of the situation with these people on this Earth."

"I have to disagree with that…"

Professor Khali cut his young student off before she could continue. "Miss Anderson, if you could contain yourself for a moment, and I realize that that is a difficult thing, I will explain it to you. Turo is correct," he continued. "The people on this planet are facing a challenge unknown to any of the races in our part of the galaxy. They are about to answer questions that has plagued mankind since he first looked upon the stars and wandered what they were. The first question has always been, 'is there a God'? The next is 'are we alone'? And the final question is 'can we come together with them? The second and third questions have been answered, if not the first. However this third question, the most interesting one at this place and this time, is what we are being witnessed to at this very moment. It defines what man or any other race is for that matter. Can we define Man as a biological distinctive entity? On the real Earth we know the answer to this and that is a qualified yes. Here on this Terran copy, these people are unsure. And this is the source of their impending disaster."

My first concern is what is it that defines mankind? In this area of space there are so many aliens that look similar to Humanity it seems there was some kind of divine plan set in motion. But it's been made clear that these other Humanoids have originated from their own planets. Therefore the likelihood that the different species that have evolved in completely separate ecospheres could possibly produce viable hybrids seems astronomically small. But here on this planet we see evidence that Humanity has ignored the obvious warnings of nature and have cross-bred freely with alien species. These actions should, by the providence of nature, be impossible. But science has circumvented the defense mechanisms of nature, a system I might add has been in place for uncounted millions of years separating species from one another, on every planet I might add, and thus ensuring their survival. The question arises, is this science and advancement or perverted abomination?"

The Centauri would never want a Human hybrid child," Condari announced with unqualified certainty. "Such a child would be immediately destroyed. Or," he added, "it would be the subject of intense scientific investigation."

"That is true of Earth Alliance as well. However here not only are they allowing this practice to continue but they are actively encouraging it. Witness the hybrid Captain Spock, half-Human, half-Vulcan. I can barely imagine the hardships he had when he was young or how alone he must feel now trapped between two worlds. And he is an adult now. What about the children coming up under such conditions? How would a Klingon –Human hybrid be treated? How would it act? Would it be allowed to breed? And what does that say to both Humans and Klingons, or Vulcans? Is not Humanity the summation of his genes over millions of years? If this branch of mankind pollutes their gene-pool should he still be considered Human?"

"Humanity would be considered something else," Turo Condari announced slowly, "a bastard blend of things that should have never been created in the first place."

"I think Humanity will be the summation of who he is and becomes, not what he is or will be," Theresa countered. "Who are we to say that these people are wrong?"

"Even the Minbari would never consider such bizarre actions as these people have performed," Khali responded. "Even though they are enemies, I am sure that we would be able to agree on this one point."

"I don't know much of the history or culture of the Minbari," lied Condari, "but I believe that they could consider these Humans with even more hatred and disgust than with you regular Humans," he finished. "No offense."

"None taken. And I agree with your assessment. The Minbari would never pollute their blood with another species. And we shouldn't either." He stopped for a moment. "I hope that we will be able to speak to a few of them after this war is over. I would love to get their opinion."

"You're speaking as if the war had already been won," Turo said coolly. There was just the merest hint of venom in his speech but none of the others noticed it for what it was….

"The moment the Federation entered the war, they were doomed," Khali said matter-of-factly. "How doomed remains to be seen. If they are as stubborn as I believe them to be, then they will happily go to their deaths biting at the throats of the Federation and Earth Alliance. But they will fall, have no doubt about that."

"Please forgive my impertinence, however the Minbari have survived the Shadow wars a thousand years ago. Their ships are considered the most powerful of the younger races and they have stridden the stars like giants. To dismiss them so easily is perhaps premature?"

"They are a powerful race, I admit. But they are doomed nevertheless." Khali took a sip of wine and continued. "They've lost just about every major battle since the Federation entered the conflict and their only response was to commit even more heinous crimes against Humanity. And still they've lost ground. There is nothing they can do short of coming 60,000 light-years to attack every planet in the Federation and its colonies and allies with super or perhaps biological weapons, something they do not have. Even if they did the logistics would make the whole endeavor impossible. Their ships could never stop the smallest fleet of Federation capital ships, or the Andorian home fleet, or the Vulcan home fleet, or God forbid those insane Klingon alien armadas. The conclusion is clear and inevitable. If they do not surrender then they will face extinction. At the very least they will lose everything. Their planets and protectorates will be gone and every race in the area will pick the bones of that once powerful Federation. No, my friend, their defeat and complete subjugation is assured," he finished. "And the Minbari should be grateful that it's Humanity and this Federation conquering them. Any other race would exterminate them because of what they've done. They are barbarians unworthy of the mercy they are receiving from their enemies. The Federation will not underestimate them. So I imagine that the survivors will be placed on some sort of reservation away from Minbar to make sure that they are able to survive without predations from the other races. It's been done before and in such a controlled environment they can be trained to become useful citizens in the galaxy once more without the attitudes that started this conflict in the first place."

"Dr. Khali," Samuel interjected. "The Native Americans of the old American west suffered that same fate you're proposing for the Minbari. It took over two hundred years before they could solidify their position in the society that took them over."

"The Minbari are not Human. As such I am sure that there are multiple techniques that Earth Alliance can employ to allow the Minbari survivors to comply. Time is not important and I can see several branches of science waiting excitedly for the opportunity to reshape a damaged society."

"But, Sir, who are we to decide how to destroy and reshape a culture older than we are?" his young student asked.

"We are the society that they tried to exterminate, Samuel," Khali snapped. "They attempted to destroy every Human being in Earth Alliance, and beyond I might add, because one of their leaders was killed by misconstruction caused by both sides. Despite them, we have survived and the victors are the ones who will determine what happens to the losers. How many Humans died because of their actions?" He didn't expect an answer because everyone knew how many had died. He got one anyway.

"The Final tally is twenty eight million. Nine hundred and sixty three thousand, eight hundred and seventy two lives lost," Samuel announced. "This includes the people on the planet, the two small colonies and one outpost in the star system, the space station, the ships that were destroyed in orbit or trying to flee the area, the destroyed Federation defense force, and the Klingon ships attacked by the Minbari at the same time in Klingon territory." He looked at the others. "I memorized it," he said. "I wanted to make sure I never forget what started this war and the changes that it brought to Humanity in the Earth Alliance."

"Anyway," Khali continued, "they are maddened animals that need to be heeled and carefully monitored. However the Minbari aren't the greatest problem that we face." He turned to gaze at a very somber-looking Turo. "We and I mean all of us, face greater threats from the Federation ideals. Getting back to our original subject I fear that mankind here will soon no longer be able to make the claim that they represent Humanity. Genetic impurities will pollute the gene pool and this must not happen to our Earth – the real one," he stated emphatically. "We will have to work hard to keep the Human race from following in the footsteps of these people here. If we are to preserve ourselves from genetic contamination, then we must begin to act now before the dangers slap us in our collective faces."

"Doctor, I agree with you," Theresa said. "That's' one of the few things that I find objectionable with this Earth. I barely like my next door neighbor," she said pointedly looking at him. "I can't imagine myself married to one of the Betazoids, no matter how Human-looking they appear, but you can't force people not to marry or be involved with whom they choose."

"Theresa, if the Human race is to survive, then we will have to. The more I observe the more I see this as the greatest challenge Earth Alliance will have, will be avoiding the Federation's almost seductive qualities in this area."

"I find myself in agreement with Doctor Khali," Condari commented. "A Humanity polluted is not Humanity. It would be a bastardization of everything that you know to be true. It would be wise if Earth Alliance avoids contact with the Federation as much as they can. If you cannot, then Humanity as you know it will cease to exist. The Centauri and the Minbari would never lower themselves to such debauchery."

"I think this entire subject is a lot more complicated than we're giving it credit for," Stephen added. "I'm sure that the Fed anthropologists and xeno-social biologists have discussed this in detail for decades now."

"They're too close to the core of the problem," Khali answered. "They can't be objective about this."

"And you can?" Theresa asked.

"Yes, I can," he huffed. "I am an objective observer. It's what I do. Few things can get past me since I am uncontaminated by living in these conditions."

"You are very observant," Condari confirmed.

**_Minbar:_**

On the shore at the foot of the bridge leading to the cloister's island, there was a virtual army.

"In Valen's name. I see, yet I still do not believe," said Kodell, standing on the cloister wall above the gate. "An army sent for me."

"Meaning the demonstration at the Ranger Temple was more effective than we thought," put in Draal. He smiled in delight. "We must have hit a nerve."

Mayan pointed at the bridge. "Look there. Someone under a flag of truce." Indeed, a person dressed as a warrior general was walking up to the bridge's apex, carrying a staff with a white banner tied to it. The white banner of truce was a legacy of Valen and Kodell hoped that it was a sign that the leader would be nearer to the ideals of Valen than to the Grey Council.

Later, Kodell walked up to the bridge summit. He recognized the warrior awaiting him. He had been at the Ranger Temple . "Shai-Alyt Mazetch."

"Kodell ra'Mir."

With that, they bowed to each other. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" said Kodell bitterly.

"Please do not make this more difficult than it has to be, Kodell. Will you sit?"

Once seated, the Warrior began. "You know why I am here. The Council has sent me to put you and your colleagues under arrest. You must surrender."

Kodell made a small wry and bitter smile. "Easier to catch smoke set adrift on the air," he quoted.

"Must you make light, Kodell? This is serious. In Valen's name, a priest burned himself to death at the Ranger Temple! It has caused people to question, to wonder about their role in Minbari society." Mazetch's face darkened at the thought. "That cannot be tolerated. We must be totally focused and win the war."

"We are losing the war," Kodell said quietly.

The warrior sighed heavily and shook his head at Kodell's stubbornness. He ignored the blunt statement. "Surrender and the Council will be lenient."

"I cannot. To do so would give the madness more force and stand aside while our world is destroyed."

"Why must you be this way?!" shouted Mazetch. He took a breath as he calmed down. "Does honor mean nothing to you? Loyalty?"

"I must do as my heart wills and my conscience dictates. I must do what I believe is best for Minbar."

"Then you leave me with no choice. Do you see the army at my back, Kodell? You bring doom upon yourself and all within the cloister. You force me to give the order to march upon Nath'Kan Cloister."

Kodell stared at the shai-alyt. The madness had spread far. Normally, no one would dare attack and defile a holy place, especially one used and inhabited by the venerated Sisters of Valeria. "Minbari do not kill Minbari. That has been our mantra for a thousand years. Would you really assault us, thereby possibly violating that part of Valen's Covenant? Do you not see the Ashen's hand in this?"

Mazetch rolled his eyes. "I am duty-bound to the Grey Council, not the Ashen. I will do my best to restrain myself. But it will be you who force the choice upon us. Surrender and we need not test Valen's Covenant."

He remembered Callenn's advice. Make a stand for his lost daughter. He wondered if Delenn would approve of him defying the Grey Council. "You will do what you must. As will I." Kodell stood up. "Farewell, Shai-Alyt Mazetch. I am pained that it must be so." With that, he bowed and turned back down the bridge to the monastery.

"Fool," said the warrior under his breath. "He's made his choice." He stood and walked down the bridge to the army waiting at the shore. "Ready the troops!" he shouted.

Once he was off the bridge, a small missile flew from among the troops and struck the place where Kodell and Mazetch once sat. The bridge exploded and collapsed into the sea, thereby physically cutting the monastic island off from the continent of Nocalo, and by extension, from the rest of Minbar.

**_Paris:_**

Condari should have been enraged by the self-centered ravings of this Human garbage, but try as he might, he had found himself agreeing with some of the doctor's observations. Interspecies children would never be tolerated in Minbari society. Such creatures would be immediately be expunged, not allowed to survive to propagate. This was the reason the Alien Prohibition was put on the books ever since Minbar's first interstellar voyages.The_Sum Nee'Verkaff_was what kept the people pure for the past one thousand and one hundred fifty years. Here however, these creatures were more alien than anything on record. And their attitudes spoke of an arrogance that belied their station in the universe. They were less than children playing with the essence of the universe.

Then there were the callously spoken words from the Human professor. Doctor Khali's remarks about Minbari being placed on reservations chilled him. No Minbari could stand to be placed on plots of land at the convenience of their enemies. They'd rather die rather than submit to such abomination. The Minbari were a proud people and would never accept such a fate.

The Minbari might lose, Nur conceded and it broke his heart to acknowledge it. But when – if they did, then they would have their teeth at the throats of their enemies. They would not submit. The Blood Knives clan would fight to the deaths and the Federation carrion would discover this when he killed as many of them as he could in two days. The molecular explosive would guarantee a most glorious victory for the Minbari against these creatures. With Valen's blessings he'd decapitate the head of the Federation and all would remember with reverence and fear the name –

– Minbari.


	10. Chapter 10

**Thanks to RenS and Lightning Count for their relentless work for ATV and its supplements. **

_**Chapter ****Ten:**__**  
"Differences and Opinions-Part Three"**_

_**Minbar  
Yedor  
Capital of Minbar**_

The Eternal City was divided into an Upper City and a Lower City. This was due to the waterfall formation made by the mouths of the three rivers Temeor, Sheshnai and Lerh'mor naturally separating the two levels. Most of the common use places such as halls, arenas, gathering places and temples, including Yedor's spaceport were in the Upper City while most residences were in the Lower City.

The Sisters of Valeria's headquarters, the White Tower, was in the Upper City in its own walled garden enclosure. Dressed in voluminous red silk robes, Irilenn had just severed her communication link to Alyt Mazetch. The Sal'Sataia could see the city from her window close to the top of the tower. The city was all crystal spires and towers, but only the Tower was solid white, gleaming and distinct from the rest of the city. The Mistress of the Sisters was proud of that distinctiveness.

Mazetch was a fool, she thought. No one touched a cloister or sanctuary of the Order. Especially one where Sister Callenn herself was in residence. Irilenn turned away from the window and caught sight of the icon of Valeria with his wings spread protectively over the fireplace. As she often did, she smiled at the allusion to Valeria as Lord of the Secret Fire.

Her eyes fell upon the book laid open on her desk. The Nok'Isil, the Book of the Future, source of the Sisterhood's influence on Minbari society for the past thousand years. Banned by Valen and kept hidden within the Sisterhood, known only to the succession of Mistresses, it was a transcription of revelations of Minbar's future made by the Beloved of Valen herself. The Sisters had found and sheltered the lost woman until Valen found her. The book's tale of the future did not contain the UFOPers and their allies. Irilenn knew what that meant:

The future was no longer written.

However, the book still offered knowledge to the Sal'Sataia. One of its pages had a drawing of a pre-Valen Minbari that was much closer to the Ashen in appearance than to the modern Minbari people. This was why Irilenn believed the Ashen's claim to having more purity than the Minbari themselves. However, she refused to accept the idea that the Ashen would control Minbar's future.

As long as the Ashen remained, Minbar was doomed. Very importantly, Irilenn and her Order were doomed. She thought it was time to make their own future, to write a new future for the Sisterhood and Minbar. But how?

The people sensed and resented the Ashen's hand in Minbari affairs. Discreet Sisters and Novices had reported the mutterings heard in the temples, the streets, the eateries and from their families. The sentiment had sharpened since the burning of that priest in front of the Ranger Temple. Despite the war with the Humans, or rather because of it, it would take little to provoke them.

Irilenn remembered the report of a dissident hiding in one of the Order's safe houses in Yedor. If the Ashen were to somehow find him….

She knew that the Ashen were quite touchy because of the war. Even more so ever since the news came of the slaughter of the peaceful Norsai by the Klingons. Their reaction would be predictable. As would the Minbari people's reaction to that reaction.

A pebble dropped in a pond created waves of ripples spreading everywhere from a single tiny point, encountering other ripples, clashing and influencing. The strongest ripples now came from the UFOPers and their allies.

Would a Federation victory be good? Would a Federation-imposed peace be better than the peace imposed by the Grey Council and the Vorlons? Somehow, Irilenn doubted that. The slaughter of the Norsai villagers reinforced that doubt. The Shadows and the Vorlons had been fighting their cold war for millennia and thanks to the Vorlons' rigid nature, the Federation and their allies would now only take the Shadows' role in the everlasting cold war. There were those who believed that the UFOPers were the face of the Shadows revealed. She was not one of them. Her rationale was that if the UFOPers were their servants, the Shadows would have used them long ago, and they would have been mentioned in the Nok'Isil.

She also doubted that the Grey Council would continue as the ruling body of the Minbari Federation after the War of Sorrows, if they were to accept a UFOP-imposed peace. If it did, it would not be in the same shape or fashion as now. Already, a Satai was missing from it, creating an imbalance of power in the Council. Changes were coming.

Yes, it was time to make their own future. It was most unfortunate that Delenn disappeared. She looked down through the window to the plaza separating the Tower grounds from the domed Chosen Palace, location of Minbar's government apparatus. If done carefully, perhaps even the Ban of Valen keeping the Sisters cloistered away from the world could be removed. It would require a discreet hand so that no one would notice it.

Irilenn reached out to close the Nok'Isil, barely registering the drawing of a half-Minbari and half-Human woman on a page. She locked the clasp holding the book closed. Bending down, she opened the safe hidden under the flagstones of the fireplace, looked over by Valeria's icon. The book was the real Secret Fire and it must be kept secret no matter the changes.

When she was certain that no one could notice the now-concealed safe, she rang for High Sister Avaier.

When the thin ancient crone came into the Sal'Sataia's office, Irilenn was properly seated in her chair with her red silk robes appropriately spread. The aged confidante curtsied.

"As you have called me, Mother, so have I come."

Irilenn smiled at the old High Sister fondly. Avaier was the only one she trusted and the old woman knew how to carry out the Sal'Sataia's will. She was also the only one who could look directly into Irilenn's eyes whose gaze had made ministers and caste elders, and even the vanished Ranger One, drop their eyes. "Daughter, I wish you to do something for me."

-+-

On a street in the city, Minbari were strolling. Most came from the Worker Caste and the Religious Caste. Some were out shopping, some were using their breaks to take advantage of the sunny day, but most were clustered in groups. Many whispered, exchanging rumors and news. Most of them discussed the war, especially the Norsai massacre.

The massacre chilled Minbar's heart. Here, at long last, was evidence of what had been repeatedly announced by the Ashen and the Ministry of Information: the UFOPers and their allies were evil, even Shadow-spawn. Many feared that the Norsai massacre was a foreshadowing of what would happen to the colonies that fell to the enemy.

Some Minbari countered that with information received from relatives on the colonies that did fall to the enemy. This information was not supposed to make it past the Ministry of Information, but people had connections through close friends and family members. The information came either through the communication net or through people who left the colonies for Minbar. Not all venues of information could be brought under control by anyone or any government.

Nevertheless, the Norsai massacre chilled them, too. Few really believed that Minbar would fall and those who voiced that opinion were either ridiculed by other people or silenced by the appropriate authorities. Sometimes, the ridicule was out of a genuine belief in Minbar's impregnability but quite often, it was out of fear and a refusal to admit that fear. Still, there was an undercurrent of uncertainty lurking in the people's minds. The colony of Shengol has fallen. This meant the enemy was only one jump away from their home-system, Fi'Ardbarae itself. To make things worse, whatever the enemy did there, it disrupted hyperspace, (see upcoming chapter 67 ATV) making travel into and out of the Minbari home-system too hazardous to undertake.

The tense calm was interrupted when a small group of Ashen warriors in immaculate white robes turned a corner onto the street. Everyone stopped in their track. It was rare to see Ashen in the city outside of the Ranger Temple that they had commandeered as a base of operations in Yedor. The Ashen warriors marched slowly down the street as if they were looking for something, as if they were a predator fish on the prowl. Most of the people studiously pretended to be looking at the beautiful crystalline architecture, but all were watching what the Ashen would do. A few now hurried into eateries or homes, especially if they had children with them. As they were pulled out of sight, the younger children openly stared and pointed at the Ashen who ignored them.

The Ashen stopped at a building. The leader, the only one with a small tattoo at a temple, verified the address with a note and pointed at the door. The warriors obliged by kicking the door open and rushing into the townhouse. Immediately, there was a commotion and the sound of a struggle.

Some people left the street, wishing not to be seen anymore.

Soon, the Ashen reappeared, forcing a young Minbari man to stumble out of the house, his hands bound at his back and his face swollen from a beating. He wore the robe of a student. They slammed him back against the wall. He was there a moment, splayed out against the crystal façade as if stuck to it. Then one of the Ashen moved in on him, did something sharp and brutal that doubled the student over.

The leader barked an order and the warriors picked the unfortunate man up and brought him out to the middle of the street.

The leader turned to face the people who remained on the street, rooted to their spots by morbid fascination. His small tattoo glittered gloriously as it caught the sun light. He announced, "This man is a traitor to our people, to our world. He has been tainted by the Shadows."

He calmly took hold of his holstered PPG pistol and raised it toward the young man whose face now cringed in expectant terror. A shot rang out and the man dropped like a puppet cut from its strings.

The leader, whose white robe was still pure, calmly announced, "This man will be reborn and given the chance to redeem his soul."

With that, he turned about and had the warriors carry the body in a makeshift stretcher. They marched away down the street, leaving stunned witnesses.

The Ashen often claimed to be more Minbari than the Minbari. There was one thing that the people cherished:

Minbari do not kill Minbari.

_**  
Becerra Alpha One  
Detainment section C-One**_

This particular wing of the rather large brig contained within the station had been deserted, the prisoners having being moved to a different set of holding cells and security increased vastly. Armed details patrolled the corridors, sensor stations monitored every molecule, random sweeps sought to expose any hints of trouble or suspicious activity. This prison wing was arguably the most secure location in the galaxy. It had to be. The concern was not somebody breaking out, but rather somebody breaking in.

For Captain Simon Makin, it was a set of orders, nothing more and nothing less. Whether he agreed with them or not was irrelevant. The word had been given and his duty to the banner made sure he turned this place into an airtight bubble. He had already been stopped and checked three times as he approached the heart of the cell block, something he noted with approval. He paused for a fourth time outside the inner core, handing over his ID key card to the Sergeant at Arms behind the control desk and submitting for a biometric scan. The Sergeant confirmed his identity with a brief nod and opened the last door, the thick white metal portal growling open allowing him entry to the inner sanctum.

His every move was watched on camera, recorded and monitored as he halted before the last set of bars, looking through at the last remaining prisoner in the Cell block.

"General Chang is right you know, Shakespeare is better when read in Klingon."  
The lone female prisoner folded shut the thick leather bound book she was reading, the crinkle of old paper a throwback to a bygone age before data pads and memory banks. "This is one of his own copies, the complete works from his private collection." She placed the book down on the desk she was sat behind. "Very fitting."

"I wasn't aware you understood Klingon," Makin stated stiffly.

"I am a quick study." The prisoner rose from her seat, smiling thinly. "Besides, where I'm going a little extra language skill will come in handy."

"You seem pretty certain of your future, I'd be careful about making such assumptions."

"And I'd be careful when trying to play mind games with someone like me," she answered curtly, falling into an insincere smile. "I wouldn't want to upset you, dear Captain."

Makin was a long serving member of the Judge Advocate General Staff and he had seen a lot in his time, but the person before him was without equal in his experience. There was no one more cruel, more vicious and more unsympathetic in the galaxy. Anyone else who had lost what she had lost might have sparked a little empathy in him despite the circumstances, but not this creature. He wouldn't admit it in public but privately as far as he was concerned she got everything she deserved.

"I'm here to inform you Prisoner Jha'dur, that your hearing has been scheduled."

"How amusing."

"You will be taken before a member of the Supreme Court who will hear the charges and decide whether or not to refer you for a full trial under Interstellar Law," Makin continued. "Which is probably a given at this point, but the formal legal process must be carried out."

"We all have our little hoops to jump through do we not?" She grinned. "A little entertainment for the masses."

"There is nothing trivial about this matter, Jha'dur."

"Next to what I've seen, Captain? she asked. "Everything is trivial."

Makin made no immediate response, pacing in front of the bars for a moment. She had quickly recognised his rank from his uniform, and if she was really good she may have spotted his divisional markings and noticed he was part of JAG, but beyond that she hadn't displayed any intimate knowledge of his background. "I have been assigned to act as your defense counsel."

She smiled. "What makes you think I need defending?"

"The charges against you are some of the most severe in legal history. The Federation is taking this matter very seriously, even if you are not."

"I will defend myself."

Makin smiled thinly. "There's an old saying among lawyers, the client who represents himself has a fool for a lawyer."

She tilted her head. "I'm going to remember what you just implied, Captain."

He used his legal training to bottle up his sudden chill. "In that case, I'll be your co-counsel. Everyone deserves impartial legal representation."

She turned aside and returned to the desk, retaking her seat and crossing her hands on the table surface.

"This trial is beneath me."

"You may think that," Makin responded. "But no one is above the law, not even a Warmaster."

"Law is a creation of the weak, a blanket to smother those who try to stand out," Jha'dur dismissed. "It forces order on a fractured society, demands conformity, punishes those who wish to be different."

"Only the guilty fear the law."

"Everyone fears the law because the law is a product of man, and like man it changes constantly," she informed. "One day you are innocent, the next day you are guilty because someone has rewritten the rules."

"That's not how our law works. It exists to protect those who cannot defend themselves."

"Those who cannot defend themselves deserve no protection." She shook her head. "They are a drain on civilisation, absorbing resources better spent elsewhere. That sort of thinking will bring you down, Captain."

"No, you're wrong there," Makin answered. "Every member of the Federation is worth something, everyone has potential, they all have something to give to the rest of our people."

"Is that so?"

"Diversity makes us what we are, more than the sum of our parts," he answered. "New ideas, new ways of thinking, concepts no other race would ever think of. One group alone could never have all that."

"What a beautiful brochure," she nodded. "And you are right of course. Alien designs and alien ways of thinking can yield fresh concepts and brilliant ideas others would over look. Your problem is that you ask for them Captain, instead of simply taking them as we did."

"One more thing which separates us, thank heaven."

"Don't thank your fictional deities, Captain. Instead mourn an opportunity lost, a chance for your race to reach heights of power no other species could dream of. You are the Federation, yet how easy would it have been to become the Terran Empire?"

Makin shook his head. "A grim fable Jha'dur, a dark poisoned nightmare of what could have been, not what we truly are."

"You had the power you know," she spoke quietly. "And I know Humanity had the capacity, you could have dominated everything you cast your eye over."

"The Terran Empire is a twisted Aberration."

"Or maybe you are the aberration Captain, and the Empire is the true face of Humanity."

"One possible face," the Captain considered. "Reality is infinite, we can't tell what other realities are out there, what parallel worlds, what has changed in them. Maybe there's a reality where you are the galaxy's most adored matriarch."

"There may well be," she accepted, "or one where my world exists still. The possibilities are indeed endless, a long list of examples to learn from."

"Including some cautionary tales."

"There but for the grace of God, go I?" Jha'dur cracked a smile

"Our experience with the Terran Empire served to remind us of exactly who we are and why we do what we do," Makin said plainly. "It shows what happens when people stop caring and become motivated solely by power and ambition."

"And fear Captain, don't forget fear," Jha'dur added. "Fear of each other, fear of what lies beyond the borders, fear of losing what they have built. A Very useful emotion to nurture."

"Fear is destructive, weakening."

"Don't dismiss it so swiftly Captain, it is probably the main reason the Federation exists."

"How exactly did you work that one out?"

"Quite simple Captain, consider history." She leaned back in her chair. "Why was the Federation created?"

It was a story every school pupil knew, the founding of the Federation was one of the defining moments of the galaxy, the creation of a super power which endured to this day and was still going strong.

"We united as a result of the Earth-Romulan war. The founding worlds had operated side by side for years in a loose alliance before then. Signing the articles of Federation formalized what had been in existence for a long time before."

"Uniting like minded worlds under one banner of equality."

"Exactly," Makin nodded. "And even you can't twist that into something evil."

"No Captain, not evil, of course not," she replied. "But it was a product of fear."

"It enabled closer cooperation…"

"It was a defense pact first and foremost, a united front to oppose the Romulans," Jha'dur stated. "They had better ships than you and more of them, the Romulan war was a hard one and could easily have ended in defeat for Earth. To prevent a further near miss like that Earth united with other worlds, using their combined strength to match the Imperial Romulan Navy. A wise move Captain, but a move born of fear over the Romulans."

"The Federation is more than that. We work on many levels from…"

"I am aware of the party line Captain. Better trade, shared development, scientific excellence and all the rest. But at the heart of the matter fear keeps the Federation together, and not only does Starfleet know this, it encourages it."

Makin grinned. "Now you really are clutching at straws."

"You don't believe me, Captain?"

"That there's a conspiracy to rule by fear in the Federation? I have to say that's the best conspiracy theory I've ever heard."

"Understandable, you have been heavily indoctrinated."

"Have I?" He grinned widely. "Did it hurt?"

"Not you Captain, but I doubt others are so fortunate in their convictions."

"I'm guessing you have some evidence for this planet-shaking theory of yours?"

"Simple, there is no other way the Federation could exist without two basic elements. The first is fear."

"And the second?"

"Greed."

Makin sighed slightly. "Thank you for that startling insight."

"I don't expect you to take my word for it. I simply ask you step back and look at the government you are serving."

"I know my Government Jha'dur, I know why they do what they do," Makin stated. "A lot of it is to protect us from external threats, but a lot more is to provide a decent quality of life for our citizens. Sure it doesn't sound like much, but it's something I'm proud to help with."

"You almost brought a tear to my eye," Jha'dur mocked gently. "Sadly the galaxy is not a playground. Some races exist merely to try and kill and conquer Captain."

"You're a fool to believe that."

"And you are a fool to deny it," Jha'dur scoffed. "Evolution is about survival of the fittest, about casting down others."

"Civilisation is about overcoming those destructive base instincts."

"And exactly how civilized to you think you are Captain?" Jha'dur arched an eyebrow. "More civilized than the Klingons?"

Makin was careful to avoid the trap. "Different Jha'dur, not more or less, different."

"How very diplomatic of you," she smiled. "So I suppose the Federation approves of Klingon culture and traditions?"

He could see where this was going. "Your next sentence is going to include the words 'Captain Klaa' isn't it?"

"Bravo Captain, glad you haven't completely disappointed me."

Makin did not display surprise. By this point he had accepted the Dilgar female had her sources even here in this most secure of facilities. He had a good idea who they were too, but couldn't make any accusations in the rather delicate political climate.

Not yet.

"Captain Klaa acted against orders, and further more against his own traditions. For a Klingon warrior killing unarmed civilians is a high crime."

"Obviously not for all Klingon warriors."

"Individuals act as they will."

"Good old fashioned blood lust. " She sighed. " I miss that. Of course no Starfleet officer would do that."

Makin waited.

"No doubt because Starfleet is more civilized." She grinned. "The Federation is better."

"Better is subjective."

"So you deny your nation is superior?"

"Not my place to decide, history will judge us all," answered Makin. "All of us."

"Because I have noticed a rather disturbing amount of racism in Starfleet regarding Klingons," She touted. "A rumour that most Klingons smell, live in huts, that most are too primitive to even talk." She raised her gaze. "You've heard these rumours Captain, don't deny it."

"I've heard them, people talk."

"Don't they talk about the funniest things?" She grinned. "I've heard them here, Klingons are not well liked are they?"

"We've fought them a lot, going to take time to change people's perspectives."

"Glad to see the Federation's first rate education system is keeping them well informed about alien cultures," she sneered. "Not just the Klingons of course, I've heard fun facts about Romulans, Kzinti, Minbari, even your long-lost cousins on Earth. This is your enlightened civilization, Captain? A society that looks down on anyone not part of their nation? That makes racist comments off hand about their new allies? It betrays a deeper truth, Captain."

"We don't force people to abandon their opinions no matter how wrong they are, we try to help them understand they are wrong and give them the truth."

"Don't get me started on the truth Captain, it is as subjective as right and wrong," she dismissed. "What it shows is that your Federation is not half as equal and united as you would have us belief, and not nearly so enlightened."

"If you want to judge a nation on a few uninformed comments, go ahead." Makin shrugged. "I'll judge the Federation by its actions."

"Indeed?" Jha'dur grinned. "What is racism but a manifestation of fear? A desire to unite against an outsider and keep them away? It holds the Federation together, fear of the outsider. Your nation is like a wall of sand, as long as there is pressure upon it the wall remains whole, compact, solid. Take the pressure away, take the external threat away, and you will dissolve into nothing."

"I'm sorry you see it like that."

"Starfleet has its part to play of course, defender of the 'Federation', champions of 'freedom and justice'." She chuckled. "And reminders Captain, a constant reminder that the galaxy is a dangerous place. Starfleet is a relief from fear, but also reinforces it, also emphasizes the threat. The Romulans, the Klingons, the Minbari, always some opponent, some enemy. When one is defeated another rises up. When one becomes a friend another becomes an enemy. Always there is a threat, always an external danger, whether real or not does not matter. The threat remains, and so does the fear forcing the worlds of the Federation to band together."

"You're delusional." The Captain shook his head sombrely. "You've spent so long away from normal people you can't see what is in front of your nose."

"I see clearly Captain," she responded. "I see that to scare your people you demonise those outside the Federation, the malicious conniving Romulans, the primitive Klingons, the Fanatical Minbari. Barbarians at the gate, my good Captain, always trying to break in and strip from the citizens of the Federation that which they deserve."

"Their freedom?"

"Their opulence." She laughed. "Their easy lives of contentment provided by technology. Deny what you will, but vast sections of the Federation are racist, and it is an ignorance propagated by senior members of the Federation to keep the defense budget high and prevent cessation movements."

"Not a bad conspiracy theory."

"I know it because I can see between the lines, pick out the same theories I would use. My compliments actually, your Federation is far more devious than I first gave it credit for."

_**Minbar:**_

The second and lesser of Minbar's two suns was the first to rise above the horizon, heralding the dawn. The orange-red star was called Midiri, the Soul Sea. In its present position, it was as if an Earth sunset was occurring in reverse, bathing Yedor in red-hued light, the crystal towers and spires refracting the light everywhere. A wind rose and blew through the tall buildings, causing the crystal to softly sing like a wet finger caressing the edge of wine glasses. Some birds answered in morning song. Midiri was so called because primitive Minbari once believed it was where their souls resided after the death of the body.

Closely following Midiri was the primary white-yellow sun. Ardbar, the World of Light, once believed by primitive Minbari to be where the ancient gods lived, streamed through the curtains covering the Sal'Sataia's bedroom window. A feline gok lay tightly curled at the foot of the large bed.

High Sister Avaier knocked the door, but Irilenn was already awake. She had heard of the public execution the previous day and was now wondering what the new day would bring. The old woman came in, carrying a tray containing a teacup, an empty glass teapot, and a metal canister. There was a bulb of closed leaves inside the glass teapot. The gok woke up, stretched in a high arch and yawned hugely, revealing sharp fang-like teeth and a curling tongue. The feline haughtily looked around and bolted out of the room through the door.

Irilenn smiled in amusement at the pet gok. She sat up to see what Avaier used this time.

The High Sister opened the canister and poured steaming hot water into the teapot. When it was filled, the bulb bloomed open into a red and gold puffy flower on a bed of thin green leaves. The water slowly changed color as the essence of the flower and leaves came out to create the tea.

Irilenn was pleased. A nethai flower! It was a rare wildflower that was difficult to find on Minbar. It was a daily morning ritual that she delighted in and Avaier was an expert in finding the appropriate flowers in the Tower gardens and crafting them for tea.

"Mother, there is something that needs to be seen." Avaier vaguely gestured at the open window. The old woman betrayed nothing on her face.

"Very well. Give me the tea first."

Once the filled teacup was in her hand, Irilenn stood and went to the tall open window. Far below her position in the Tower, she could see a large group of young Minbari sitting on the plaza of Valen's Peace. Judging by their robes, they were mostly Religious and Workers. As the city awoke, more people came into the plaza and joined the group. She turned to look at Avaier with an unvoiced question.

"It is their response to the public execution yesterday. Many education temples are closing in protest and more are closing by the hour. Sympathetic priests are refusing to conduct their ceremonies. And, Mother, Shai Alyt Mazetch has been recalled from Nath'Kan Cloister last night because of this."

Irilenn sipped her tea, watching the plaza in wonder. The pebble was dropped and now the ripples were appearing.

It has begun.

_**  
Yeya'la  
Dravanpore Province**_

Kodell looked up when the door to his room opened. He sighed in relief: it was Draal.

The teacher noticed. "You do not feel comfortable?"

Kodell sighed again as he closed a book in his lap. "It's the news from Yedor. It's bothering me."

Draal nodded as he seated himself opposite of Kodell. When Alyt Mazetch took his army away from Nath'Kan Cloister, they, Mayan and Callenn took the opportunity to go onto the mainland and reach a nearby fishing village to tap into the Minbari communication network. It was there that they found out about the public execution made by Ashen in Yedor and the resulting strike staged by the city's temples. To say that the whole thing disturbed them would be an understatement.

After hiring craftsmen to rebuild the bridge to Nath'Kan, they decided to use their family connections to contact the clan and caste elders. They thought if they got the required recommendations and protection, they could appeal to the Council of Caste Elders or present their evidence and views in the Temple of Varenni which would be broadcast to the whole of Minbar.

So it came to pass that they reached the small town of Yeya'la as night fell. They decided to retire to a two-story inn for the night before continuing on their trip.

"Have you any news from Ker'Shan Castle?" inquired Draal.

That ancestral estate was another source of Kodell's unease. "The Sujenn Province authorities have interdicted my family. They have shut themselves up in the castle and they refuse to talk to anyone, much less me."

Now Draal looked concerned. "Why? As far as I know, the Mirs are not troublemakers."

"Except me," countered Kodell. "I am of the family Mir, and by association, they are potentially guilty. I presume the interdiction is in retaliation for my part at the Ranger Temple protest and to motivate me into turning myself in."

Disturbed, Draal quietly said, "It is a dark path our world is walking."

Kodell winced at the thought, but he had to admit it was true. The evidence of Minbar's eroding social honor was the PPG he had bought from a merchant on the way to Yeya'la. The merchant had dared to trade with other worlds despite the war and the traditional isolation policy. It was a common civilian self-defense pistol with only five shots worth in it. The purchase was not entirely legal, but then he was not entirely legal in person himself. From what he could learn from the merchant, this primitive-looking type of PPG was popular among some of the Non-Aligned Worlds and, ironically enough for Kodell, was manufactured in the Earth Alliance.

Traitor and heretic, indeed.

"Valen foretold that before the next Great War with the Shadows, there would be a terrible war. In it, darkness would menace two races; one physically and the other spiritually."

The older teacher nodded. "That would fit the War of Sorrows, at least until the UFOPers came. Now, our people are in both physical and spiritual danger." Draal glanced at the night sky in the window. If there was light enough to see outside, he would see the Crystal Mountains rising in the distance. "Shai Alyt Mazetch and the Blood Knives at Nath'Kan, the public execution at Yedor, the interdiction of your family at Ker'Shan Castle. It is moradum."

"The application of terror," Kodell translated, recognizing the term from Draal's lessons for young Delenn. "I agree. It is a dark day when terror is applied to our own homeworld and in our own government. Our honor is stained by that."

Draal agreed. "And this developing protest in Yedor may be a sign that the Ashen have miscalculated." He shook his head. "In their zeal for victory, the government has forgotten that religion and war must act in the service of the people, not the other way around. So we can't go to Ker'Shan to get the support we need. Where do we go from here? The road splits here in Yeya'la. One goes into Na'sen Province to Tuzanor, the other to Yedor. The other way would take us back to Ravin'sha and on to Nath'Kan."

"Callenn was right: I cannot hide or wait out events and changes in the Universe. We'll make for Yedor."

Draal was silent for a while, studying Kodell. Then: "Do you mean to join the movement occurring at the capital?"

Kodell nodded. Draal broke out in a wide grin. "You're right. Sister Callenn's right. Changes are coming and we cannot wait them out!"

"How is Callenn?"

Draal now looked at Kodell knowingly, stroking his beard. "Sister Callenn is taking a bath with Shaal Mayan downstairs." He moved to sit beside his friend. "Kodell, she is a Sister of Valeria. Whenever a woman joins the Order, she divorces herself from worldly concerns and renounces all vows and relationship connections. In other words, Kodell, Sister Callenn cannot return your feelings."

"I know," Kodell whispered. "In Valen's Name, I know. I just don't know why she joined the Order."

"Let's go to bed. We'll feel better in the morning."

The two friends took off their outer robes and lay down on the slanted beds. Draal verbally turned the light off.

"Draal?"

"What?"

"Thank you for being a friend."

"It is I who should thank you for making my life exciting again."

A chuckle sounded and then silence fell.

After a while in the silent darkness, Kodell spoke again, this time in a whisper. "Draal? I think I hear something."

The aging Minbari strained to listen. For a moment, he thought he could hear footsteps, the sound of hushed voices and a rattle that was almost like a denn'bok opening and closing. "It's the other inn patrons. Why did you choose this inn, anyway?"

"It…it's one of my favorite inns. Callenn and I stopped here for a while when we got married."

"I see. Well, we'll talk in the morning."

-+-

Mayan squeezed a hot water-laden sponge over her back. The large stone tub that Mayan and Callenn were in was naturally hollowed out by water and wind erosion, and they thoroughly enjoyed the chance to wash and relax after the long trip in the personal transport.

More steam filled the room, obscuring everything. Candles, the only source of light, gave a ghostly glow in the mist.

Callenn sighed contentedly. Absentmindedly, she said, "It's almost like the Whisper Gallery but without the Dreaming."

Mayan was surprised. Few ever went into the Dreaming. It was said that the Dreaming took participants forward into the possible future and back into the past. "You have…entered the Dreaming?"

Callenn was chagrined. "I-I should not have mentioned it." When she saw that Mayan was earnest, she remembered that Delenn did not make life-long friends lightly. Her daughter was a good judge of character, so she said, "This will not leave this room." Upon receiving Mayan's solemn nod of agreement, she continued, "It clarified something for me. Do you remember the day Delenn, Kodell and I visited Tuzanor, and she got lost? And the Centauri diplomat who visited your class at the education temple after that?"

Mayan nodded. "Isn't that the one who renounced his Centauri citizenship because he was taken with our culture? I heard he's on a distant colony, had his hair removed and is doing his best to be a Minbari."

"The same. Well, before all that happened, his wife, Lady Ladira, pointed something out for me and I needed the Dreaming to—"

She stopped. The reason for that were the warriors passing the open window.

Callenn instantly knew what they were doing. She jumped out of the tub and ran out of the room, leaving Mayan alarmed and puzzled.

The Sister ran up the stairs and threw the door to Kodell's room open.

"Quick! There are men with denn'boks coming!"

Kodell and Draal were staring at her with surprise. It was then Callenn realized that she was naked. Blushing, she spoke fast. "Get up! I'll hide!" The Sister ran off down the corridor to her own room.

A crash sounded. It was the wooden front door being broken in. Startled yells came from other inn patrons.

Quickly, Draal and Kodell got up, put on their outer robes and seized their denn'boks. The comrades crouched down in a corner of the dark room to meet the coming attack. It was just in time because warriors were running up the stairs. As they entered their targets' room, Kodell was taken back to his brush with the Blood Knives at Nath'Kan Cloister. He was not about to fall at another assassination attempt. He brandished his PPG and fired. The shot missed the first warrior on purpose. The warriors hesitated.

A voice rang out into the darkness. "Kodell of the family Mir! We are law-guardians! The Yeya'la entil'chan wants to meet you!"

So the local magistrate wanted Kodell, too. How did they know he was here? Were there agents or spies? Or did a concerned and dutiful citizen inform the authorities? The Ashen had a long reach.

"Kodell! I am Mytarin of the family Kort. I will guarantee safety for you while you meet the entil'chan."

The family Kort. So this Mytarin was part of Shai Alyt Shakiri's clan. Kodell knew that the law-guardians' safety really meant arrest. Political pressure would have him judged insane by the magistrate and exiled to penal moon orbiting Minbar where he would live out the rest of his life without contact with other Minbari. He would not have that. He refused to be forced to wait out the Universe's changes.

The snick of his denn'bok opening was the answer to the law-guardians' challenge.

The guardians entered the unlit room again, brandishing their own denn'boks. Draal and Kodell parried with them. Whenever pressure became too great, Kodell fired his PPG. Pained screams in the dark answered the shots. The anger in Kodell built up. This world's increasing spiritual darkness was forcing him to be a murderer. Minbari do not kill Minbari but the darkness, heat and pressure of battle forced him to disregard that sacred tenet.

A guardian leapt at Kodell out of the darkness and brought his denn'bok down hard on his PPG hand. Hot pain squeezed the trigger and the warrior fell at Kodell's feet. Despite the guardians' numbers, which seemed to be twenty, Draal and Kodell managed to drive them out of the room. They knew that the respite was temporary.

Shouts indicated that some of the inn's patrons were demanding explanations and distracting the guardians, who fortunately were not as skilled or professional as Warriors. Kodell quickly put down his denn'bok and took out a PPG charge from a pocket. He tried to reload his PPG but he found that his hand was broken. That made the reloading difficult. He knew he could not afford to turn the lights on for risk of the guardians easily seeing them and overwhelming them. Indeed, more enemies could be heard outside. As he fumbled in the dark, Kodell dropped the gun. Feeling the floor with his good hand, he could not find it.

Kodell tightened his grip on his denn'bok. He was not about to surrender. He had made himself a murderer at least four times this night. "Draal, we could rush them."

"No. We should find a way out. Dying or being mortally wounded is just a way to hide and wait out the changes. It'll only let the Ashen win. Do you wish it?" Draal paused before adding, "Callenn will be most distressed if that happens."

That decided it. "Let's go."

They pulled open a door into the next room. Callenn was there, sitting anxiously in a chair with wide eyes. This time, she was dressed in her Sisterhood robes. Instantly, she knew what the men needed.

"Go. The back is unguarded."

Kodell hesitated for a moment. "What about you, Callenn? Mayan?"

"The guardians wouldn't dare touch a Sister. I will allow them to assume that Mayan is a Novice under my charge. We will meet you outside the town. Go. Now."

Draal was already at the window and climbing over it. For a moment, only his fingers were visible on the sill, then they vanished, quickly followed by a thump on the ground outside.

Kodell cast a worried glance back at Callenn as he climbed over the windowsill.

Noise came of guardians rifling through Kodell's room, searching for their targets. "Go," she whispered urgently as she raised a veil over her face.

Kodell lowered himself down under the window, holding onto the sill with his hands. He dropped himself down into the inn's rear courtyard. Once Draal was sure that his friend was not injured, except for his broken hand, he asked, "what now?"

The courtyard was enclosed so there was no direct way out. Shouts of protests came from behind as the guardians now searched other rooms. Kodell imagined he could hear Sister Callenn's voice joining the cacophony. His eyes immediately went to one of the surrounding buildings at the other side of the courtyard. All the shutters on the house were locked.

He and Draal looked at each other and nodded their wordless agreement. They bashed in one of the shuttered windows and jumped through it. They founded themselves in a bedroom occupied by several rather startled inhabitants.

Draal and Kodell bowed their apologies to the frightened residents and ran out a door. They tried to find a direct way out of the house but the place proved to be rather large. By the time they made it out into the street, they had kicked their way through several rooms, leaving a succession of open doors and startled sleepers behind them. Finally, they were outside and escaped into the night toward Yedor.

_**Becerra Alpha One**_

"There is one flaw though," Makin mentioned. "If the Federation hated outsiders, why would we allow new worlds to join? Why wouldn't we hate them and keep them out?"

"That is actually the easiest part of the plan," Jha'dur informed. "Independent worlds seek to join because they are afraid of being snapped up by another power, or because they wish to raise their standard of living with Federation commercial technology."

"So why let them exploit our better nature like this? Why don't the people riot and kill the alien as you want to believe?"

"Because of something called the 'White man's burden' Captain, or in a more contemporary context 'the Federation burden'. The aliens around are not evil, they are just misguided. Their not as enlightened as you are, not as civilized. We should pity them and take it upon ourselves to educate these barbarians, to bring them to our level where they will automatically become just like us. Then they may join our Federation."

"Nice fantasy world you live in there."

"You believe the Federation is right and everyone else is wrong, and they must become like you or live in ignorance. Such arrogance astonishes even me."

"We respect self determination and accept other cultures."

"Unless they want to join the Federation, in which case they must change to match your rules of admission."

"No, not change their culture, just meet basic sentient rights."

"As defined under law, that blanket of the weak provided by the strong. My, doesn't that sound exactly like the attitude I've been describing? The mighty Federation nurturing and raising up their lesser neighbors?"

"You're still seeing things through your own twisted eyes, hardly an objective view of things is it?"

"As I said, I see this plan because I would have used it myself."

"Then you are just seeing what you want to see, not the truth," Makin replied. "Trying to sow seeds of doubt and discord."

"Exactly Captain, and I have to thank you for providing me with a platform to do so across the galaxy." She grinned coldly. "Going to be a magnificent trial."

"If you think anyone will believe your little rants…"

"Maybe not the obedient sheep of the Federation, but what about the Klingons? These noble savages you are allied with, uncivilized but handy in a fight. Able to shed and spill blood as well as your own people even when Starfleet sneers behind their backs."

"The Klingons know where we stand, faults included."

"Yes, they know your faults all too well. Captain."

"We're not perfect, I never said we were," Makin spoke honestly. "But we learn from our mistakes, build on what we know, and we accept people for what they are."

"I'm on the brink of weeping again." Jha'dur winced. "The problem with the Federation is that you think everyone wants to be like you, that you are the pinnacle of a society and everyone else aspires to the same heights. You seem to think that all you need to do is illuminate the errors in other civilizations and they will change overnight to become more like you and abandon their old culture as being wrong. I trust Captain Klaa has demonstrated that is not the case."

"Speak your poison," Makin said quietly. "Tell the whole galaxy, and let them hear you. Then let them see what you have done and what you truly are. Words or deeds Jha'dur, which do you think people will judge you by?"

"Neither Captain, I will just put voice to what they already know in their hearts." She beamed a wide smile. "I came to you with a deal, you turned on me and in so doing created an enemy."

"We have worse enemies than a delusional war criminal. We'll survive." Makin stood straighter. " Be ready for eleven hundred hours tomorrow for your hearing."

"I will relish it Captain." Jha'dur picked up her Klingon book and found her previous page. "I'll work on my delivery, after all Simon, all the world is a stage is it not?"

_**Minbar  
Yedor:**_

The protest in the Valen'wa Circle had grown. Temples and education centers throughout the city were closed. As a result, more people joined the protest. The authorities soon found out what the protestors wanted. They thought that the government had not done enough to reach out to other worlds in peace, that it had gone too far in punishing people for the deaths of Dukhat, and that it had compromised too much of Minbar's sovereignty in favor of the Ashen in their zeal for victory over the enemies in the War of Sorrows. They also demanded freedom of information. This particular demand embarrassed the Ministry of Information which was only following orders coming down from above. In an effort for planetary security, the Ministry had shut down the official global communication network to stop the discussion of the self-immolation at the Ranger Temple, and now of the developing protest in Yedor's central circle. The only things coming through the network was the manipulated reports of the war's progress and the loud reports and analysis of the Norsai massacre committed by the barbarian Klingons who were deemed as no better than the Humans or Dilgar.

The people never had to think about their freedom of information until recently. For centuries, if there was something that they needed to know, they were told just what they required and no more. Minbari respected the privacy of others by not prying into their affairs. It was tradition. The conflicting reports of the enemies' conduct, of the war's progress and of the alleged Minbari victories, caused the people to talk among themselves, to share their views and knowledge. More often than not, they learned things about everything around themselves before they were told what they needed to know. Thus, they realized how easy it was for the government to manipulate how much they knew and how they perceived events in the galaxy. Some perceptive people have commented, "You never know how much you appreciate something until you lose it."

It was true.

The tranquility of the rigid Minbari traditional society had kept the turmoil concealed and the resentments suppressed. The self-burning of a priest at the Ranger Temple woke Minbari society. The various ministries, under orders from the Grey Council, and the Council of Caste Elders worked to maintain that tranquility. It was too late: the people had opened their eyes to the role that the Ashen had in their governance. The public execution of the young dissident by the Ashen was the last straw.

Hence, the protest at the Valen'wa Circle in the center of Yedor.

Usually, the plaza was used for the Shi'Ki installation ceremony in which a new Chosen One of the Grey Council was presented to the people before he or she was inaugurated at the Great Shrine of the Ancients on an island at the southern edge of the capital city. To honor the murdered Dukhat, there would be no Chosen One for ten years. On one side of the circle, the Chosen Palace contained the various ministries and the assembly rooms for the Council of Caste Elders, which was immediately below the Grey Council in terms of authority, where nine members from each caste, each Elder representing a clan, met. The Chosen Palace itself was built as if someone initially wanted a crystal pyramid and changed his mind after the first several stories, deciding to have a large geodesic dome that is flanked on two sides by tall slender crystal spires. Crystal spikes lined the government building's front. On all sides of the plaza, more slender crystal spires, spikes and buttresses curved up from other buildings and temples, with diamond-like crystal octahedrons added here and there for visual differences. The ground itself, now obscured by the crowd, was a lake of glass, smooth, dimly reflective and seamless as if water had flooded the plaza and solidified permanently.

On the other side of the Circle of Valen's Peace was the walled enclosure of the White Tower, headquarters of the Sisters of Valeria.

All this would make the protest highly visible to the powers that be.

And it was.


	11. Chapter 11

_**Chapter Eleven**_

_**Becerra Alpha One:**_

_**Federation District Court:**_

For a closed hearing the room was surprisingly busy, thronged with diplomats and dignitaries from dozens of worlds, uniforms and suits mixing together in a sea of rich colors and disparate faces. The formalities of the legal system rarely drew such crowds, and traditionally it was only trials that gathered attention, not the brief hearings that set them up. Here though was an exception. Today was an event, something no one had believed would ever happen and the governments of local space had insisted on sending observers to make sure it was true, to guarantee the facts they had been told.

Starfleet had captured the most evil war criminal in living memory, a person who redefined the meaning of sadism and cruelty. Someone thought long dead and buried in hell.

Death walker was at last going to face justice.

Only two sets of reporters had been allowed access, one group from the Federation News Service and one from ISN, though the full trial which was expected would no doubt turn into a massive media circus, already predicted to be the biggest news event ever witnessed. The attention was a double edged sword, for while it gave the Federation a chance to flex its P.R muscles and show a new side to itself. It also meant it would be heavily scrutinized and any failings would be impossible to cover up.

It was something that weighed heavy on Admiral Robert Bennett's mind as he moved through he crowd to his seat. While the trial itself was the responsibility of an assembled tribunal and out of his hands this hearing was his responsibility. The guests, the location, the security, even the refreshments all bore his mark and would all reflect on him if something went wrong.

Honestly he'd be glad to get rid of this troublesome prisoner and return to the more pressing matter at hand, the final act of the war which was beginning to unfold.

"It is reassuring to see this day finally arrive."

The voice was even but could through the babble of noise like a knife, the resonance of the tones unmistakable.

"Ambassador Sarek." Bennett turned to find the darkly robed Vulcan stood by his side. "I didn't think you were going to make it."

"It is important that I witness this event myself." He observed. "I have accepted a certain responsibility in these proceedings and I believe it appropriate to be on hand in case more is needed from me."

"I think you've done enough, Ambassador. All of this is thanks to the plan you created."

"Not all of it Admiral, I cannot accept full credit."

Bennett nodded, choosing to take it as a mild compliment. He glanced around the room. "Quite a turn out."

"Correct. Warmaster Jha'dur inflicted a great deal of pain on a great many people." Sarek nodded. "She was relentless in her actions, destroying all that stood before her without mercy or favoritism."

"It seemed she hated everyone equally," Bennett grunted. "Anyone not of her own kind."

"It seems so," the Vulcan agreed. "At least on the surface, but in my dealings with her I perceived something deeper. She did not hate aliens, they were vermin to her, the only people she hated were the Dilgar."

"Her own race?"

"They disappointed her," Sarek said simply. "She had no feelings for the aliens; they were mere fuel for her requirements. But the Dilgar, she tried to raise them up and when they did not respond, when some of them turned on her, it generated a rage that defines her to this day."

The old Admiral grimaced. "And look what that did."

"It is a cold anger, a controlled and focused anger." Sarek gave a hint of distaste in h is voice. "That focus coupled with her intellect is an extremely dangerous combination. Another reason perhaps why I wanted to be here in person, of all the people in this room I am perhaps the only one who truly understands her."

***

Both men's eyes were drawn to an officer walking into the middle of the court, standing in front of the Judges chair and between the table set up for the accused.

"Ladies and Gentlebeings, if you could take your seats we're almost ready to begin.

Bennett glanced at his watch, noting with approval that they were perfectly on schedule.

"If you'll join me Ambassador, we have seats at the front of the hearing," the Admiral gestured, leading the Vulcan to his place.

The congealed mass of people began to find their places, sitting in the ranks and lines of their chairs and waiting expectantly for their first glimpse of the beast, her fist public appearance in sixteen years.

"Quite a turn out." Bennett cast an eye over the groups. "The Romulan Ambassador made it, not to mention that party of Klingons. I recognize two of them from Chang's staff."

"General Chang seems to be taking a special interest in these events," Sarek considered. "Fascinating."

"Yeah, that's one word for it," he responded darkly.

As they found their seats they were joined by two more elder statesmen, one Narn and one Brakiri, who were quick to offer greetings to Bennett.

"Ambassador Sarek, can I introduce War leader G'Sten of the Narn Regime, and Minister Limak Brocat of the Brakiri Syndicracy."

The Vulcan folded his hands and bowed formally. "It is an honor to meet you both, I have been monitoring your work recently as part of the recent circle of diplomatic contacts."

"Thank you Ambassador." Brocat inclined his head. "The last few months have been quite remarkable."

"Extremely," G'Sten agreed, moving his burly frame to a suitable chair. "I can inform you the Ka'Rhi have almost decided on a representative for the tribunal.

It had been decided that a Narn would chair the tribunal that would prosecute Jha'dur as a potent symbol of the shift in Narn Regime policy. G'Sten had been a strong supporter of the new direction, using his influence as one of the oldest and most famous fleet members to persuade his fellows to work more closely with the Federation. He had a clear perspective on the strengths and weaknesses of his people, and could see an opportunity when it presented itself.

"Who's in the running?" Bennett wondered.

"Myself and my nephew, G'Kar of the third circle."

"The representative currently touring our Earth?"

"The same," G'Sten nodded with a smile. "We both share very similar opinions, and hold a similar outlook on the future."

"Glad to hear it." Bennett returned the smile. He'd gotten to like and respect G'Sten in their recent meetings on this subject and believed him well suited for the role.

"The Krona is also close to final deliberation," Brocat said. "I would have enjoyed putting myself forward, but I have my responsibility to my own world first."

As Chief Executive of Brakir's biggest corporation Brocat essentially ran the planet, at least until somebody else turned a bigger profit and challenged his position. The Minister had masterminded the Brakiri recovery from the Dilgar war forming close ties with Humanity in the process. The Minbari war had weakened those ties, but the sudden appearance of the Federation offered him an enticing alternative.

Like the Narn, Brakir was in dire need of terra forming devices to help stabilize their eco-system. Their fragile world had been tipped over the edge by a Dilgar bombardment and was in constant peril of full scale collapse, condemning billions to death. Even after all this time the damage had barely begun to be turned back.

"Earth Alliance is likely to send Jesse Robinson, one of their most senior diplomats," Sarek intoned. "The Abbai have selected Matriarch Itala, the woman who was responsible for leading efforts to unite the galaxy against Jha'dur during the war."

"All coming together," Admiral Bennett affirmed. "The Drazi were having a frank discussion on who would represent them."

"Which means they fight for the honor, and the last one standing wins," Brocat chuckled. "Has a certain appeal."

"We are sending one of our own most senior Judges," Sarek announced. "A close colleague of mine from the Vulcan High Court."

"A true multi planetary tribunal." Bennett smiled with a little pride. "Hopefully the first of many similar co operations."

"United against one single figure," Brocat pointed out. "Just like our last great alliance."

"A lot of people will be watching this with great interest," G'Sten contemplated. "And not just for Death walker."

"We anticipated as much," Bennett confirmed with a nod. "This will put the Federation on trial as much as her. But we're ready for it."

"There is a lot of interest in your Government, and that of the Klingons and Gorn as well," Brocat said. "You are still a mystery, and it has drawn much interest."

"We look forward to shedding some light on ourselves here, the good and the bad," Bennett mentioned, the bad being the Klingon massacre laid open for all to see. "We'll be open and honest here, leave it to the facts to speak for themselves."

"In the last few years we've seen a lot of changes," G'Sten outlined. "The Minbari must be on the brink of collapse, these Ashen are broken before they could make a real impression, and Earth Alliance is crippled. Three great powers have been brought down, and three other powers show up out of nowhere."

"Doesn't take a genius to recognize a power vacuum," Brocat intoned. "The question everyone is asking is who will fill it? You? The Klingons? Maybe the League or Narn will expand into the vacuum with your help."

"That is… probably beyond even me to answer," Bennett shrugged. "We have a responsibility here now, we can't deny it, but replacing local governments… it wasn't our plan."

"But nevertheless that is what may happen," Brocat considered. "My people estimate Earth Alliance will bounce back quickly, several years perhaps, but by then where will the Federation be? Will you have taken over the Minbari sphere of influence? What about the Klingons?"

The Admiral was saved from an immediate answer as a door opened at the far corner of the room, a small troop of Starfleet security filing out and assuming a cordon.

"Ah, looks like the main event," sneered G'Sten.

The entire room when stone silent, as still as a photograph with eyes fixed on the door waiting for their glimpse. The individual who walked out was underwhelming to look at, no claws or blood soaked fangs, but she still exuded confidence and arrogance, a cold superiority that assaulted everyone who saw her. She wore her old uniform, now bereft of weapons, and could have walked straight out of a historical vid. The sight was vaguely unreal, seeing someone so talked about and discussed in person was a surreal experience, and there was no sound as she was led, hands cuffed together, to the table. Two guards flanked her as she stood calmly, while Captain Simon Makin stood a few feet behind her acting as her unwanted defense lawyer.

"All rise for his Honor, Justice Shan."

At the announcement to various species all stood to pay their respects, a second door allowing the presiding judge appointed to this sector to leave his chambers and make his way to his seat.

Shan was an elderly Human of Chinese origin, grey haired with a fixed scowl he sat down.

"The defendant will remain standing, all others may sit."

There was a moment of scraping and shuffling before silence returned.

***

"Warmaster Jha'dur," Shan began. "You have declined counsel at this hearing, is that correct?"

"It is." she replied, her words soaked up across the galaxy.

"You have chosen to represent yourself?"

"I have."

"Counselor Makin, is that decision acceptable to you?"

The officer cleared is throat. "With regret, yes your honour."

Jha'dur scoffed, a smirk crossing her face at that.

"Very well," Shan accepted. "Warmaster Jha'dur, formerly of the Dilgar Imperium, you stand charge with violating every single article of Interstellar Law."

She smiled. "I always enjoyed achieving a hundred percent."

Shan shot her a look. "You would do well to refrain from commenting until it is your turn to speak Warmaster Jha'dur."

She simply grinned even wider.

"The charges are too long to list, but include," Shan looked at his notes. "Waging aggressive war, engaging non combatants, destruction of neutral shipping, development of illegal weapons, deployment of illegal weapons, kidnapping, extortion, inflicting bodily harm, torture, indiscriminate use of weapons of mass destruction, genocide, and approximately one hundred and forty billion counts of first degree murder."

"Objection," Jha'dur raised. "There was nothing indiscriminate about my use of weapons. I'm not an amateur."

"Do you understand these charges?" Shan continued.

"Entirely."

"How do you plead?"

She shook her head. "I enter no plea."

There was a wave of murmurs that swept the court.

Shan banged his gavel. "Order! Warmaster, I warn you that failure to co-operate will not help your case."

"I fail to care," she mocked. "You have no authority to sit in judgment over me."

"Our authority comes from the fact you were arrested by Starfleet personnel on a Federation installation."

"I accept judgment by my superiors or a council of my peers," Jha'dur informed. "You are neither, you are nowhere near."

"Fortunately that is not your choice to make," Shan grunted. "Case referred to the High Court Tribunal. Trial to start at the earliest practical date. Do you have anything to say?"

She looked around the room, at the cameras and the host of aliens all hanging on her every breath. They hated her intensely, but there was more than hatred in the room, a deeper emotion, and she savored it.

She began.

"Am I a monster? You might think so, anyone who goes to school, watches a vid, downloads a book or asks about the war would arrive at much the same answer. The first name that comes up is always mine. Nobody remembers the victors of that war until later, Hamato, Stro'kath, Brocat, Hauser, all of these names come after mine. That I suppose is some small victory. Speak my name and you will see the same reaction on the face of the person before you. It doesn't matter if they are Human or Drazi, Abbai or Hyach, Brakiri or if you can find one these days Alacan. Their eyes widened, their jaws tensed, muscles pulsed at their temples. They hate me. Across half the galaxy they hate me. But you know something else? They fear me too. Even after all this time they still fear me. That is a lasting power, something the victors of that war never had.

"You may call me a monster, most do. I am a fable, a fairy tale told to scare children into going to bed or eating their vegetables. Today, I am the main cause of bedrooms being tidy and medicine being taken, almost a parody for the new generation. Young children will shy away from my name because their parents have turned me into an avenging demon from the sky. They fear me because they do not know any better. Their parents fear me because they do. I have been studied and scrutinized, my life opened to scholars on hundreds of worlds. They look for clues, little tidbits of information to try and explain me, to rationalize my actions and lend meaning to my decisions. They want to understand me, to define me in terms they know and derive some comfort in the knowledge that I am an aberration, that I was never normal and simply the product of a depraved and sadistic race.

"They are wrong, of course. Certainly my people were harsh, brutal, even sadistic, but we were more beside. We are the villains, the enemy, directly opposite to the heroes who were good and pure and virtuous. Yet we too could be good, and pure, and virtuous. We had those noble qualities too yet none now understand that for there is no one left to defend us. Just me, and I am no longer much of a public speaker. I was idolized by many, and I know even today small sects on various worlds still honor my legacy. Tiny cells of ultra xenophobes who try to kill all who are different, who promote the purity of their species just as I did mine. They do not understand, but I take their dedication as a compliment, misguided as it is. So am I monster or martyr? Saint or slayer? Visionary or false prophet? I am all those things, and I am none of those things. And yes, I do quite like being cryptic.

"You ask why I did what I did. What else was I to do? My world was doomed, we were outnumbered and outgunned, our only hope of victory, or survival, was to be utterly ruthless. We did what we needed to do, what I needed to do. We fought with ingenuity, with fearlessness, we sacrificed without hesitation and we won victories no race has ever equaled. We defied odds no one else has dared face, and for a long time we won. Even in the end we nearly won.

"As to my methods, well I could talk for hours about them. I can tell you I advanced medical science by decades that my discoveries are used across the galaxy though never credited of course. I could tell you we needed living space, that it was nothing personal and merely the most efficient way of clearing a planet for colonization. I could tell you we had no choice; that it was a sad task but one I reluctantly performed for my people.

"Of course I'd be lying.

"Why did I kill all those people? Why does a painter paint? Why did I experiment on living beings? Why does a singer sing? Why did I wipe out whole worlds with biological weapons? Why does a sculptor sculpt?

"It was my art, it was what I was good at and it was a good feeling. I had in my hands more power than any other individual has ever held. Whole worlds lived or died on my word, and I relished it. Judge me all you want, nobody else will ever achieve what I achieved, nobody else would dare. That is why I am remembered first before all others, why I am used to scare people into obedience. Everyone who fought in that war was just a man or a woman, everyone who died just a victim or maybe a hero. But not me, I am a myth, I am a legend, and just maybe I will be the face of fear for as long as people cower.

"So to answer your question, am I a monster? No. A monster is a beast, a product of natural or supernatural processes, an animal that acts on instincts. A monster is what it is. It cannot change and cannot be blamed for what it does, good or bad. What I did, what I became, it was not instinct, it was choice. I decided to be what I was, what I am. I decided to kill, and fight, and lead the greatest invasion the galaxy has seen. I wanted to cut apart aliens on my operating table, I desired to hear their cries and I longed to deny them the mercy they craved. Monsters really are myth. I am real.

"I am not evil, I was not born evil. I am a normal person just like you, just like your family and friends, like the people you pass every day in the street. My life was not supernatural, my existence not prophesied. I am you, I just made different decisions. But you see that means that you are also me, all of you are as much like me as I am you. It is easier to believe we are different, comforting to call me a monster, but in truth I am a reflection of what you could easily become.

"All you need is the same thing I needed. The correct motivation. One day soon perhaps you will, and then I will welcome you as brothers and sisters."

Shan shook his head. "Hearing closed." He struck the gavel a final time. "Return the prisoner to her cell."

Bennett rolled his eyes. "Well, that went better than expected."

"Admiral." Captain Makin walked the short distance over as the Judge departed. "So now the process begins."

"More than she deserves," Bennett frowned. "People like that…"

"Deserve a fair trial," Makin stated firmly. "As we all do."

"A fair trial would see her burnt at the stake," Bennett grimaced.

"Hardly, Admiral." Makin shook his head. "She is a criminal, one of the worst, and I have no fondness for her, but she deserves her chance."

"She'll get it, that is the point of all this," the Admiral said. "And then she'll get some justice."

"It is unlikely she will receive the death sentence," Sarek mentioned. "There has been a surprising amount of political pressure to keep her alive."

Bennet winced. "You're joking?"

"I assure you Admiral I am quite serious," Sarek replied flatly.

Bennett exhaled. "Perhaps a length spell in prison is better punishment than death."

"From what I understand it will be a very, very lengthy spell in prison."

As the guards began to mover her away Jha'dur was brought in front of the conversation, offering a harsh laugh.

"Good morning Ambassador Sarek. How is your wife?"

Sarek maintained a perfectly even expression. "She is dead."

"What a pity, and yet I will be enjoying life when her bones are dust. I hope you remember that, Ambassador. I hope you keep it like a shard of glass slashing your heart with every beat."

"Why don't we move along?" Makin suggested.

"And Admiral Bennett, I see you've expanded your collection of pet Narns, and added a pet Brakiri! My, isn't the Federation menagerie coming along nicely."

"Good to see you too, Jha'dur." Bennett half smiled. "How's your cell?"

"Quite temporary, I assure you."

"You won't be getting out of this one," Bennett stated. "As I hope Ambassador Sarek proved, there's nothing you can tempt us with."

"Oh, I don't know. There're still some ambitious men in the Federation." She glanced at Makin. "Men who wish to use me to make their careers. Trial of the century was it? Win or lose you become the most famous lawyer in the galaxy."

Makin looked quickly to Bennett. "I never said that!"

"You didn't have to." Jha'dur smiled. "Never try to manipulate someone smarter than you."

Bennett offered a sympathetic shrug. "I tried to tell you, some people are beyond redemption."

"No, I don't think so." Makin looked back at Jha'dur. "Anyone can be rehabilitated."

She held his gaze for a second, and then burst out laughing.

"This is the future of Starfleet? Oh dear Robert, what sort of touchy feely mess are you landing yourself in?"

"I wouldn't be so sure," Bennett said. "A lot has changed, the galaxy is a different place now, we need a different attitude."

"Yes you do," she nodded. "Not everyone wants to be redeemed, not everyone will accept your help, some of us may bite the hand that tries to feed us."

"Doesn't matter," Makin countered. "We have a duty to offer that help."

"Because it suits you, not the person you wish to help." Jha'dur sighed. "You should listen to Robert, he knows more about this than you do, and he's seen the true face of the galaxy. A face with hate in its eyes."

"My task is to try and make sure you receive a fair sentence." Makin began. "For example, regarding the order to bomb Mitoc, I'm confident we can pass the blame to your subordinates, absolving you of responsibility for the massacre."

"I gave the order," she said. "I wanted them dead."

"If we present it…"

"Simon, stop trying to make me look weak."

"I'm trying to save you from the death sentence." He returned. "If we use your brother's death as a reason for a period of mental instability…"

"Oh please Captain, what are you trying to pull!" Bennett objected. "She's guilty as sin!"

"I am too," Jha'dur agreed. "And proud of it."

"Look, this is for your own good," Makin outlined.

"Oh? Is it?"

"Yes, now I'm prepared…"

There was no warning, Jha'dur suddenly pounced forward with a speed gifted by her feline ancestry, crashing bodily into Captain Makin before the two guards, Bennett, Sarek or G'Sten could act. Her hands were cuffed, but it did not matter. She sank her teeth into Makin's neck, that same feline ancestry gifting her with a set of sharp incisors which easily penetrated his flesh and sliced into the tissue beneath. In front of half the galaxy she twisted her head and ripped a bloody hole in the shocked officer's neck, letting him fall to the ground as the guards grabbed her and pulled her away. It all happened in less than two seconds.

"Were you prepared for that?" she snarled.

"Get her out of here!" Bennett yelled, dropping down beside Makin who was gasping, his face already white as blood jetted from his severed arteries.

"Still think you can redeem me?" She laughed as the Guards dragged her towards the door, her face and clothing red with blood. "Still think I can be rehabilitated?"

"Get me a medical team!" Bennett called out. "Where are those medics?"

"Simon! Can you hear me Simon?" Jha'dur kept laughing. "There's nothing so sweet as the blood of the self righteous, delicious! Give my regards to the Mitoc when you see them! Tell them I'm still laughing at their slaughter!"

"Dammit!" Bennett roared, powerless to do anything as the man faded beside him. He did not agree with Makin's philosophy, a belief becoming more common among younger upcoming officers with limited field experience, but he would never have even idly wished for something like this to happen.

Makin held his hand tight over his neck, but it was no good, a large pool of red expanding beneath him as the crowd milled around in shock surrounding him.

"Hold on Simon, help's coming," Bennett assured. "Just another minute."

Help did not arrive in time, and without a single word Makin passed, his eyes still wide in complete shock. It was not the first death Bennett had seen, not by a long shot, but it was one of the most needless.

He slowly stood up. "I want that witch quartered."

"Unnecessary," Sarek spoke, as utterly calm as ever. "There are other options."

"Other options?" Bennett curled his lips in anger.

"Indeed." Sarek remained impassive. "One may consider death a release, an easy escape for the guilty. A severe crime should have a severe punishment, wouldn't you agree?"

Bennett frowned. "Do you have something in mind?"

"We will speak again later." Sarek stepped aside, avoiding the blood on the floor. "It appears I have some matters to now attend to."

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

_**Chapter 12**_

_**USS **_**Monroe**_**: **_

**Miranda **_**refit**_

_**Archanis Sector **_

It wasn't the biggest quarters, the ambassador had had the pleasure of traveling in, but it was more than enough considering the size of the Federation starship he was traveling on. The company was pleasant and the presence of gravity wouldn't punish his old bones like long distance weightlessness travel. He was rapidly becoming spoiled by gravity while traveling in space. The subspace message he'd just received had also served to lighten his mood. A few minutes earlier, his son and another traveling companion Jeffery Sinclair had joined him for a small get together. David Sheridan felt himself relax some as he and his son and Commander Jeffery Sinclair shared a drink in the quarters granted to him as the ambassador of Earth Alliance to the Federation. The three of them had made a habit of meeting in his quarters for the last four days as a way to talk away from prying eyes or untrustworthy telepaths.

David had cautiously insisted that he and his son, John would accompany him to the Archanis sector because they needed to talk and this trip would afford privacy despite the two PsiCorps reps accompanying them. So far, the two of them were on their best behavior and none of the Starfleet people had detected any scans, something that they seemed to be able to detect. That was curious in itself and when asked, he was told that since many Starfleet personnel had come into contact with telepathic species on a constant basis they had developed a 'sensitivity' and in many cases a natural form of mental shields against casual intrusions. Some of the Monroe's crew was sensitive enough to detect casual brushes from telepaths. He found that interesting since Humans of his Earth had apparently not done so at least as far as he knew. If it were occurring, PsiCorps certainly wouldn't be forthcoming about it. A bit of research might be enlightening in order to see what the conditions that separated such developments were. PsiCorps was sure to be doing the same thing no doubt. But that was a subject for another time. Right now he had some important news to deliver.

"So Turo Condari of the Centauri ambassadorial staff was a Minbari agent," Ambassador David Sheridan announced to his two guests. "It's all on the news. They arrested him before he could set a bomb off at the middle of Federation council meeting with our representatives."

"Wait," his son John asked. Both he and Jeffery Sinclair were stunned by the news. "Why would the Centauri want to kill the very heart of the Federation?" he practically yelled. "It's insane. They had no reason to do something like that."

"They didn't," David explained. "The news said that the man was a deep cover Minbari agent genetically made up to look Centauri. He was discovered during the transport to the hotel when we first got there. The buffer signatures didn't match the Centauri physiology profile, so they had him tagged from the beginning."

"How in God's name did he smuggle a bomb on Earth?"

"The news announcement was deliberately vague on that but our office transmitted the details to me," he waited for a second. "The explosive was in his blood."

"He was a walking bomb?" Jeffery exclaimed.

"Yes, two chemicals, one circulating through his bloodstream, the other located inside his wrist bone. He breaks his wrist both chemicals mix and – boom. Supposedly the stuff even in tiny amounts is extremely dangerous. He could have blown us up at any time during the trip here. According to my sources, he could have gone sub-nuclear with the amount he had in his system."

All three of the man felt chills at the thought.

"And they stopped him, how?"

"Same way they discovered he was a Minbari. Their tech is amazing as you both well know. When he was transported the second time, their buffers filtered out the second drug. He came out sick as a dog but unable to blow himself up. Never knew a thing," he said, "until he screamed 'for vengeance Blood Knives' and broke his wrist trying to detonate the explosive."

"I'm sure Londo was not happy," John mused.

"He was more shocked than anyone else. Said she should have known, since the man couldn't hold a drink to save his life. But it was G'Kar who surprised everyone else by coming to Londo's defense."

"You're kidding!"

"No. He said, and I quote: "Despite their numerous acts of unrestrained barbarisms towards my people and the many people throughout our regions of space. I can't see Londo Mollari or the Centauri people perpetrating such a heinous act against those whom they have established positive political and economical ties with'. I have to remember that for the future when I run into Londo."

"What did Londo say about him coming to his defense like that?"

"Supposedly something like, 'I still hate you', to which G'Kar supposedly said, 'good'".

It took a while for the trio to calm down. The shared banter turned serious.

"It will serve to remember my friends that the Minbari have a long reach," Jeffery cautioned. "It's something that we can't afford to forget. We can't take them for granted now that they're at the edge of defeat. They're not down until they're down."

"Amen."

"Speaking of which," John began. "You know, I'm beginning to hate Rannaonn more now than when he first opened his mouth. He opened up a can of worms that I'm having a very hard time trying to close back up."

"I understand, Mister President," his father crowed quietly. "I can't believe you married a Minbari." He shrugged and took another sip of brandy. "What was on your mind or, rather his mind?"

John shook his head. "It's wasn't me," he insisted. "I love Anna and that's that. I wish you would stop bring that up every evening."

"I can help it," he quipped. "I'm your father. It's what I do. Besides it brings us back to our ongoing conversation."

"The history of the Earth Alliance in another reality," John said probably the fourth time since the journey to Archanis IV began. "How much of is relevant to ours? Maybe all of it, or maybe none of it. I don't know and all of it gives me a headache just thinking about it, but I can't not think about it."

"There are some differences," Jeffery casually mentioned causing his friends to stare at him for his understatement. "The reasons for our counterpart's choices in this other …place is something that we may never understand, however the warning about the Shadows and Vorlons are another matter and frankly that scares me." He was quiet for a few moments lost in thought. "The Vorlons disturb me more so than the Shadows and I don't know why. They shouldn't, but they do."

"We haven't had any contact with the Vorlons, other than the attack by one of their ships on the Federation," John said. "On the other hand, you've seen the Shadows on _Becerra_. You could see the threat they posed. One look at them and I felt like shooting it on the spot. Every bone in my body was telling me to either run or kill it. Usually I have better self control than that but when I saw it, it's like I lost almost all of my self control."

"I felt the same way when I saw them on the screens. They agreed to a non-aggression treaty," his father pointed out. "They were straightforward and that's more than what the Vorlons did. But at the same time we may be assuming something that's incorrect based on what we've seen on the data transmissions and that disastrous Federation first contact. I think we can come to terms with them without going to war."

"Maybe," Jeffery said, "if they decide to talk to us." He shivered.

"But you don't think so, do you Jeff?" John said.

"No," Jeffery confirmed. "There was a time that I would have liked to believe that they would have. But…"

"You feel it as well, don't you? It all comes back to it, doesn't it?"

"Yes," Jeffery said. "Everything changed – six nights ago."

"Six nights ago," John confirmed. "The Vorlons are not to be trusted. I wish it were otherwise. I don't know what it was, a dream; a nightmare. I can't remember. But I am afraid for our future and what might be."

"So am I, "agreed Jeffery. There was a moment's pause. "Something happened to us."

"You mean besides coming half across the galaxy in less than a month to meet other Humans with the power to stomp the Minbari?" the ambassador asked trying to lighten the mood a bit. "Our lives have been turned upside down. We're still in shock." He paused. "Those half-remembered dreams are no doubt significant but there's another problem and that's why we're here."

"Psi-Corps," John hissed. "I can't believe what they're trying to do."

"In both universes, that's something that we can agree on. The only advantage is that they're still too weak to advance their agenda. Not to mention the Federation presence and the loss of Clark. That's the only positive thing. It's kept them off balance. So far they're still following the rules."

"You mean the Psi-cops not scanning us?"

"Exactly, although I don't know how long it's going to last," David announced. "For now we're safe but if they get the tiniest hint, our lives won't be worth a single Martian credit."

"We keep this a secret between us," David ordered as both of them nodded. "It makes sense as they haven't deep scanned us. I'm half surprised they haven't already found out. Maybe we'll find a way to keep them from prying us open like sardine cans in the future. I don't know. But I'm hopeful that we'll find a way."

"Secrecy, people. Secrecy."

"So," Jeff started changing the subject. "What about the colonists? Do we make them come back?"

"Trying to force them back isn't my job, although there are a lot of politicians and military folks would gladly try getting them back just for the knowledge they've gain being here. But Earth Alliance is Earth Alliance. Democracy rules, gentleman. I can only make my case the best way I know how and allow them to make their own decision. Hopefully, they'll make the right one." He smiled. "I think I'm in for a hard sell if even half of what I've seen is true. Personal opinion, they should stay where they are. The EA will be in economic straits for a while after this war is over no matter who wins."

"What about the EarthForce military that elected to stay here? Are they classified as deserters?"

"No, the ones that did want to return already and there was no way for the injured to leave to get back. Also consider that the Archanis IV colony isn't strictly a Federation colony but an independent one with strong ties. As such we may not have a legal leg to stand on and I hesitate to push the political buttons now when it may well blow up in our collective faces later. We have no jurisdiction here despite what some of the senators and military have advocated. These people probably have roots now and will want to stay and unless we somehow force them, I don't see why they would want to come back. I am looking at asylum using the Federation as mediator if it comes to that."

"Is that the official stance," David's son asked?

"As of now, yes. We can't force them, really don't want to, and we have no jurisdiction. I will talk to them and try to convince some of them to return so that we can learn what they know which will help Earth in the long run," David smiled lopsidedly. "We don't want to rock the boat over something as trivial as small group of independent – who wanted to start life away from Earth in the first place – colonists that don't want to come back and four seriously wounded soldiers who couldn't."

"Thank God, someone in our government has some sense."

"We're trying," he conceded. "PsiCorps and the so-called blips debacle however is another matter all together."

_**The Solar Le Clément hotel:**_

_**Paris:**_

Arati Mehta, age thirty-six was considered by the leaders of PsiCorps a telepathic prodigy. Found at the young age of nine, she had been taken and thoroughly indoctrinated into the family. Her skill level exceeded level thirteen, one of the strongest ever recorded. By the time she was nineteen, her ova had been harvested and eggs implanted in four PsiCorps volunteers at home. As far as she knew there were at least five children generated from the unions. The children were genetically hers, even looked like her and what she imagined her children would look like, but she had no emotional connection to any of them. They were PsiCorps property, useful for increasing telepathic capabilities in Humanity. She had a husband who was chosen from one of the best candidates the Corps could offer but no children had been produced despite the best efforts of the doctors. Her husband was nice, but the emotional connection was weak, despite her efforts to make it work. As the mundanes said, 'there was no real spark'. The problem was that she had been 'harvested' too early. Something happened and she was now effectively sterile. Sometimes her loss bothered her but there was nothing she could do about it and she did her best ignore it at night when she was alone.

Being one of Earth's stronger telepaths she had to maintain her control all of the time. Even as she slept she had to keep from broadcasting. Her rivals at home on the real Earth would love to see what she was thinking. They were always looking for weaknesses and that constant need to protect herself even from her own husband had made her hard. But it was to be expected and she really didn't mind as long as she didn't slip. She had tendencies to do the same thing herself. Infighting inside PsiCorps wasn't obvious. However the battles for power were subtle among telepaths. Families did fight after all.

To facilitate the best scenarios of survival over the years, two schools of thought were slowly developed. One side considered isolationism in the best interests of telepaths. The others were proposing a more aggressive stance. As they considered themselves a superior form of Humanity, evolutions next step. They had the right not only to survive but to dominate. To Arati, both schools of thought had their merits. Those along with the 'Ironheart' experiments which showed a lot of promise in the coming years gave confirmation that the long term agendas were coming along on schedule.

Then, things turned on their collective heads with the introduction of another group of Humans and another Earth. Plans being proposed on both factions grounded to a halt as the Federation swept in and made a mockery of the invincibility of Minbari military supremacy. However the survival of Human telepaths was jeopardized as well. The Federation was different, with different attitudes, and rules and laws. And there were so many of them. Being a largely Human-based organization however, presented a golden opportunity for advancement and power. There had to be telepaths on this planet as well.

Shockingly, there were less than three hundred pure Human telepaths in the entire Federation of thirty billion Humans spread throughout the galaxy, a number far below the most conservative projected expectations. Arati and the others had been surprised by the small number which was disproportional to the numbers seen in Earth Alliance. There was slight disappointment with that figure, but it also meant that being such a small minority the prejudice against them was projected to be far more stressful than at home. Her mission was to speak to them, organize them and if possible have them join PsiCorps. The Corps was mother and father. It offered a home away from the mundanes who feared and hated them. Their joining would strengthen the corps, giving it needed resources, another arm so to speak in a new world full of mundanes. _'If they were amenable to joining, that is'_ she mused. In all honesty she couldn't see how they wouldn't jump at the chance. And if they chose not to now, then in the future, who knew what might happen?

There were other Human telepaths that had to be dealt with, too. Blips that refused to remain a part of PsiCorps and clearly under their jurisdiction had somehow escaped to this part of space. Those questions from the news people, "How do you feel about the Earth Alliance telepaths asking for political asylum?" And, "why is it they fled from Earth Alliance to make the dangerous journey here?" had slapped all four PsiCorps members in the face. Arati had no idea that blips had made it here, a situation that threatened this mission and had broad political ramifications if not handled carefully. Toni Williams, her assistant, and Alfred would deal with that situation on Archanis. In fact they were already on their way to the colony world with Ambassador Sheridan to '_convince'_ them to return to Earth Alliance along with the escaping colonists whose actions precipitated this war that involved the Federation in the first place.

***

She and Roberta and were scheduled to meet the telepaths in San Francisco in two days so she actually had a whole day and a half to herself. Curiosity got the better of her and she decided to go to Mumbai. Specifically she wanted to compare Malabar Hill that she knew of to its counterpart here while Roberta was visiting China probably doing something similar. It was amazing really that both worlds were so similar to one another even t the point of having similar names. A part of her still didn't accept it. There was no way this could be a coincidence. There was another, far greater power working to create something like this and that thought terrified her.

The trip from France to India lasted all of thirty minutes, something for which she was grateful. As her shuttle descended flying over the city she was a bit surprised by the similarity between the two cities. But there were differences that were even more startling. The numbers of people were less than at home. There were off world colonies that had cut down overcrowding. The city looked gorgeous, just as beautiful as her version.

The people here looked the same, but without any of the stresses permeating their minds. The war wasn't a concern here, not like at home. There wasn't that feeling that the world would die at the hands of aliens at any given moment. It was refreshing to her so see mundanes not worrying about eminent extermination. However, she wasn't as comfortable as she thought she would be, either. She was PsiCorps and her manner of dress proclaimed that clearly. She could feel the disgust emanating from many at home, something that felt like a badge of honor. People at home respected and a more than a few of them feared her.

Here, everyone almost to a person looked at her like she was crazy. Some of them looked sorrowful at her with her trademark gloves on in one hundred degree weather. Some of the minds she felt thought that she had some type of disfigurement causing her to almost want to take her gloves off in their presence for the first time that she could remember. Everything was different on this twin. Things that represented power at home had little to no meaning here.

***

Malabar Hill was an amazing city with amazing people. It was as multicultural, an atmosphere identical to the one at home except here aliens had joined the mixture. It was a melting pot that stretched the imagination. The food was great and she was sure that she'd gained a couple pounds since coming to this world which made her admit that and she'd have to work hard to get them off after she left, of course. There was no need to worry about that right now, she tried to justify.

Arati didn't have that much time and there was much to see. Several hours later, she found herself walking in the same region located on her home world's counterpart, amazed that so much was the same yet so completely different.

She didn't particularly like her hometown but it was like she was drawn there and why she was drawn was something she couldn't quite explain to anyone who might have asked her at that moment. Maybe because it '_was'_ different could have been the reason. On her world, she avoided home as much as possible. The memories of her childhood were still too raw even after decades. . .

She was the youngest of four children and a second generation telepath discovered in the family. Her mother's oldest sister was a telepath and had been removed at an early age so she never really knew her even though they met a few times as Arati grew up in the PsiCorps camps. Arati's parents loved her. However her brothers and sisters resented her, knowing that something was different about her. Sulaka, the middle sister hated her, always had even before she manifested her telepathic traits. Things came to a head when her sister '_mistakenly'_ poured boiling water on her, scalding Arati's right shoulder , neck and arm all the way to her hands. She remembered the pain and fear has her parents had seen the injuries. Sulaka was screaming that something had happened and Arati had done this to herself. Despite what Arati had said, her parents hadn't believed that it wasn't her fault. They couldn't believe that Sulaka could have done such a thing, hadn't seen the smirk on her sister's face as they ran out of the house to get to the hospital. It took weeks to recover from the injuries and the scars on her neck shoulders and arms remained to this day. She never forgave her parents for that betrayal. She was a thirty-six year old woman and she still felt embarrassed and ashamed if anyone saw what little remained of them after the plastic surgery. She covered the small remaining scars as much as she could. It was a mundane trait she had told herself, but one she couldn't quite separate herself from.

When her abilities manifested themselves fully at the tender young age of nine, just before her new family came to take her away, her long-festering hatred lashed out. Sulaka's mind was laid bare. All of those dirty little secrets, the boy down the street, the contempt for her family, her secret dreams – she told her parents everything. The memory of the supreme humiliation her sister suffered almost made up for the phantom pains that Arati suffered from for years. The family had been aghast and their thoughts were revealed in all of their fearful and vindictive glory. Arati was happy to leave in those days. In retrospective, she understood that the mind of a nine year-old girl had interpreted much of what she heard incorrectly that day. But the raw pain of those days still hurt. However all of that didn't explain why she was now standing in front of a house that on another world would have housed her family…

***

The meeting with this Earth's telepaths was to take place in San Diego California of their former USA. Again, the trip from France to the USA took about an hour and Arati spent the hour reading old history of the Xindii attack on this Earth. The attack had been savage, the scars still present. It was something she wanted to see. She didn't know why but she needed to have some sort of connection to this world. Earth Alliance had been on its knees while this world prospered. Those wounds showed that this planet wasn't invincible and immune to its enemies but despite the attacks it had survived and prospered. Irrationally, those thoughts made some part of her feel better. She couldn't afford to be controlled by her emotions.

She and Roberta stepped off of the air vehicle and stared in awe of the skyline. Now this was different than their world. The 'great quake' had happened here. Fully half of the city had been destroyed and eventually rebuilt. But there were buildings stretching across the pacific surrounding what had been the rest of the city. Small, connected islands dotted the area and on top of them were twenty and thirty story buildings connected to one another. Ten minutes from the airport they arrived at a small but elegant hotel. A short time later they were their rooms. The weather was exceptionally beautiful and both women vaguely wondered if this world had some type of meteorological control system monitoring and controlling the weather. Neither of them would doubt it.

One thing was apparent because both of them felt it almost as soon as they had entered the hotel. There were other telepaths present. It didn't feel the same as what either woman had encountered before at home but the general emanations were at once familiar and comforting.

However, it was Roberta Yang a P-Ten telepath who had noticed something else first and when she mentioned it to Arati, the woman had been surprised that she hadn't recognized it herself. The Humans here had a much lower number of natural telepaths than on their planet but there was a huge number of mundanes that had some form of natural shielding. Evidently being exposed to so many alien telepaths, especially the Vulcans had triggered some sort of natural defensive measures in their brains. If true then the implications had meaning for the mundanes at home as well and she didn't like the dangerous potential that that revelation would cause.

***

That afternoon the conference started without incident. The banquet was great, and both Earth alliance telepaths basked in their semi-celebrity status. All of the Fed telepaths present, about fifty of them, knew who they were and were very interested in what Arati had to say. The meeting was being conferenced with the Mars contingent and subspace connected to those on Vulcan and several local colonies where the telepaths there were unable to make it in person. The brochures and information on Psi-Corps, its inception and history, the rules and regulations, and goals were passed out.

Arati dressed in full PsiCorps regalia spoke of the Earth Alliance and EarthForce history and their relationship to PsiCorps. For an hour, she spoke of the persecutions and abuses of telepaths at home and the eventual creation of PsiCorps to protect both non-telepaths and telepaths from each other until both halves of Humanity became comfortable with each other. Unanticipated was the fact that the universal translator provided to her was to be her chief mode of communication. Telepathy was somewhat different with the non-Alliance telepaths and she hadn't been able to fully '_translate'_ it yet. There was also the fact that their mode of telepathy was different and that presented a real challenge. There were nuances that she needed time to understand. Further, despite Federation standard being English-based, it wasn't as simple as that. Federation standard had so many different words, many of the alien. There were liberal mixes of Vulcan, Andorian and Tellarite sprinkled in with other languages. Entire phrases which had little meaning to Arati were part of their mish-mash English. So the translators were a great convenience. The Humans here had not necessarily better, but different shielding that she or Roberta weren't used to. Arati had to work at listening in on things unless the people here specifically included her.

***

"…And to conclude I want to express that the telepaths in PsiCorps are more like family than anything else. And our family has protected and loved us. No one of us has had their life endangered by those who would seek to use our powers for gain. Being a telepath can be lonely, so having a family is very important. I ask you to think about this. Becoming a part of us can serve only to make us all stronger. We are after all the next step in the evolution of mankind whether here or on our Earth. Are there any questions?"

A young blond girl about thirteen years of age was the first to speak. "I'd like to thank you for speaking to us, Ms. Mehta. I do have a couple of questions. In the interview when you first came to Earth, I noticed that the members of PsiCorps all wore gloves. You're wearing them now. My first question is why do you wear them? Do you wear them all of the time? And my last question is, is your telepath limited only to line of sight?"

Arati smiled. She was such a beautiful young girl. "It was discovered that many of our telepaths are touch telepaths and so we wear gloves to protect others from being accidentally scanned. It also helps others to identify who we are so that they will be aware of what we can do. To answer the second question, we wear them all of the time around non telepaths. And yes our telepathy is based on line of sight although we can sense other thoughts peripherally if we concentrate. Is your telepathy based on line of sight?"

"No, it isn't, ma'am. It's distanced-based."

"Very interesting," Arati answered. And it was. "Our telepathy makes us different and just touching someone by mistake can inadvertently cause a scan. Many people don't like that, making them afraid of us. So the gloves identify us to them so that we don't mistakenly scan them."

"So, your organization makes you wear gloves all of the time?" She shrugged. "If I touch somebody I don't hear them unless I want to. "Those gloves…they make you look crazy."

Arati and Roberta could feel the mental snickering reverberating around the room.

An older woman jumped up quickly to intercept her daughter's next question that was about to be phrased in a manner as only a 13 year old could. "What my daughter is trying to say is that you're purposely isolating yourselves simply out of fear, or is it something else?" asked an older woman.

Arati smiled but it was somewhat cool. "We're different and non-telepaths need to be aware so that mistakes won't be made."

"Forgive me, I should have introduced myself. I am Dr. Miranda Jones-Shukoff. I am ambassador to the Medusan delegation here on Earth. And this young lady is my thirteen going on thirty-year old daughter, Miriam."

Arati stared at the woman. There was something off about her but she couldn't place what. "Doctor Shukoff, our experience with non-telepaths has given us some cause to be cautious. But we don't isolate ourselves simply because we are telepaths. Telepaths are misunderstood and feared. We need to be protected from those who fear and want to exploit us , therefore we come together as family. We don't have to rely on other species to help train us. We can train ourselves on how to best us our abilities."

"Ms. Mehta, the people here '_are'_ like family," she said. "But we don't isolate ourselves from our real families simply because of our abilities, or" she added, "our limitations. For example, I'm blind, however neither my blindness nor my telepathy forces me to hide in a corner away from the very people I have to be in contact every single day. I was trained to control my telepathy by the very aliens you've just dismissed out of hand."

The woman speaking to her was blind, she realized that was the difference now, yet somehow she was navigating the conference room as if she had been here all of her life, something that made her wonder if the woman's telepathy was more than what she had believed it to be. She'd find out more about that later. "On our Earth non-registered telepaths are feared and hated simply because they are different."

"Is that the only reason?" someone in the audience asked? "Or has your isolationist tendencies helped to exacerbate your situation? Humanity here has decided to follow a more 'paced' change, not like your Psi-Corps."

Arati took a step back as if she had been slapped. "I have no idea what you are referring to. You're calling our survival techniques 'isolationist's tendencies'?" She took a breath to mentally calm herself and started once more. "In some way, you may be partially correct. But these tactics are helping us survive on a world that is cruel and hostile to those who are different from the norm. As a telepath, many normal Humans fear us and what we represent. And what do we represent? Well. I believe that we telepaths represent the next step in evolution of mankind. Much like the Neanderthals moved aside for Homo sapiens, natural selection may be forcing non-telepaths to move aside for our new bidding species. Naturally, if this is true, then normal Humans may become aggressive and strike out at what they don't understand. Understanding that Human nature strikes out at what they don't understand has been a concern of telepaths across our world. And contrary to our outward separation from the masses, we are working to improve our relationship and transference from a 'normal' society into something that we can only imagine in the not to distant future. On our Earth, the number of telepaths being born have jumped greatly during the last 100 years, so much so that we believe that a genetic mutation has somehow been activated and is asserting itself, likely as a natural defense because of our contact with new, alien species."

"Or maybe not," Miranda countered. "There could be dozens of reason why this increase is happening, natural or artificial."

"On our Earth it may be one of the reasons why mankind is evolving." Arati's voice remained calm but she could feel her anger slowly rising. "I don't know enough about this world to speculate on the evolution, or lack of it, of the telepaths here."

Dr. Androv Povich stood up. He was a fairly young man with streaks of grey just beginning to overrun his naturally brunette hair. "On this planet, Humanity has always had people with psychic abilities in one form or another as long as we've had recorded history. The far majority were low-level sensitives usually showing empathic ability or some rudimentary telepathic capability. There have been only a very few recorded instances of legitimate telepaths before WWIII when the people started actively search for and experimenting telepathy gifted people. There was a lot of genetic research before the advent of WWIII. The Optimum Movement comes to mind. Then creators of the Augment Ascension were heavily involved in artificially developing telepaths. Our history clearly showed that during the reign of Khan Noonan Singh, many of his genetically enhanced people had telepathic gifts. Khan was believed to have them also but for some reason chose not to use them. But the fallout from those days has severely restricted our use of genetics to artificially enhance Humanity."

"I believe that I can speak for some of the people here in saying that we'd have to learn a lot more about PsiCorps before we consider associating ourselves with your organization which frankly seems a bit restrictive," Dr. Jones-Shukoff said. "You no doubt know that there are only a few Human telepaths here on Earth. Because of that when I was young I was sent to Vulcan in order to control my telepathy. They trained me, taught me to control my telepathy which allowed me to block out most stray thoughts and essentially kept me from going insane."

"That's exactly what I am talking about, Doctor. Human telepaths should have trained you. There should have been no need for alien intervention."

"I know what you're thinking," Miranda smirked. "We have only a few Human telepaths and none of them were qualified for the training that I required. Betazed hadn't been discovered yet. Vulcan was the best solution for me at the time. However there is another situation that you haven't really taken into consideration. Here, most of the Human telepaths are hybrids. There are Betazoid-Human children, the Ananti-chovah-Human children, a few Human Vulcan children and even a couple of Deltan/ Human males. All of them are telepathic in one form or another. They're not completely Human, but they are still a part of us. How will they treated by PsiCorps?"

"And why do you believe that being telepathic is the next logical evolutionary step for mankind?" another Human male asked. He looked to be in his mid twenties. "I submit that your reasoning while flattering may be critically flawed. There may be a reason why Earth hasn't developed many telepaths. You assume that this gift is the next step in the evolution of man. I have a theory that you may prove you to be in error at least where it concerns this Earth and the Humans here. My thesis on the evolutionary pathways of telepathy in Humanity suggests that telepathy and its associated abilities are not selected for, but in fact they are selected '_against'_. We have billions of people here and less than one tenth of one percent of the population has telepathic abilities above what we call level two or if I am not mistaken, a level four according to your scale. This hasn't increased over the generations and well may not be. It's possible that Humanity's path may be actively discouraging such direction. This is of course our Earth were speaking about however if your people were transplanted, and we believe that that's a very likely scenario, then your people may or may not be experiencing the same thing. The question becomes, is this a sudden evolutionary jump because of some natural cause of is it a result of some artificial stimuli? Have you isolated the genes that generate telepathy?"

"Before I answer that question I must respond to your earlier supposition. Telepathy allows mankind to more intimately interact with the world than just using sight, hearing, touch, sound and smell. The ability to sense another's thoughts and emotions from a distance outside of the normal senses is a tremendous evolutionary advantage."

"It may be desired," the young man interrupted. "But is it needed?"

"Let me finish," she answered quickly with more venom than she had wanted. The woman wasn't used to being questioned and she was irritated now. "How we developed the telepathy is not as important as the fact that we have it and the fact that is places us in a unique situation in society," she said trying to get back to the original point she'd been trying to make. "There is strength in numbers and with that strength, the ability to protect ourselves from exploitation."

"Is that why PsiCorps' establish a breeding program?"

"You're implying that our so called breeding program as you call it is something to be ashamed of." She reeled for a second. These people knew far more than they should have about PsiCorps. "We're trying to understand our telepathy better and any selections are done with the full cooperation and agreement among the members of PsiCorps. They aren't coerced in any way. Anything that you've heard otherwise is false fabrication."

TBC


	13. Chapter 13

_**Chapter Thirteen**_

"_It is better to discuss things, to argue and engage in polemics than make perfidious plans of mutual destruction."_ –Mikhail Gorbachev, last Premier of the Soviet Union.

_**Chez Sandríne**_

_**Marseille, France, Earth**_

_**United Federation of Planets**_

"Firewine!"

"You sure you want that, Mr. Mudd?" The female bartender quirked an eyebrow at the flamboyant-seeming man who was rotund, bald, grey-haired and mustachioed. "It's nothing like Andorian ale, you know."

Harry Mudd said, "Just call me Harry. I know, Madame…what's your first name?"

The woman managed to seem to look down her nose at Harry without doing it. This Harry Mudd looked to be in his 70's but he sure didn't act his age. "Just Sandríne will do. It's my family's name and it's on the sign outside. It's been there since the 18th century. Use it."

"Very well…Madame Sandríne. If I'm going to appreciate our new alliance with the Klingon Empire, I must know their drinks. Give it here."

Sandríne shrugged and poured out the Klingon liquor into a glass and set it before her customer. "I got a barrel of it from a friend at Deep Space Station K-7."

As Mudd drank the freshly poured firewine, the female bartender used a hand to make sure that her complex blonde coiffure was still in place and asked, "So you're going there? The Klingon Empire? At your age?"

The man gasped and half-coughed on the firewine. "Whew! Like drinking Andorian ice-bores!" He shook his head to clear it. "Stronger than whiskey! Anyway, yes. At my age. I will keep chugging along until I keel over. I got nothin' else." Harry shrugged. "Anyway, I got some jewelry and Andorian silk that some Klingons might like to buy. This alliance is good for business. New trade routes to explore and open." He took another drink and set to gasping on it. "I think I'll buy this in bulk while I'm in Klingon space. Might do well in keeping Andorians warm during the winter on Andoria. Tastes like it can melt ice."

The aging fat man peered at Sandríne closely. "Since you're already trying to benefit from the new trade relations with the Klingon Empire, I might have something you'd like." Harry Mudd took a heavy glass bottle filled with a dark brown liquid from a satchel.

The French woman looked down at the bottle with suspicious curiosity. "What's this?"

Mudd gestured expansively, saying, "It's the wave of the future, Sandríne! Mark my words, Madame, or my name isn't Harcourt Fenton Mudd! Raktajino. Klingon coffee."

"Coffee. I have plenty of coffee here, Harry. This is France!"

"No, no, it's not just any coffee. It's Raktajino, Madame! Stronger than coffee, sweeter than coffee and has a kick to it. Here, taste it."

Mudd poured some into a small cup for the owner of Chez Sandríne to taste. Rubbing her lips with her tongue, she said, "Mmmm. You're right. The caffeine's strong. Tastes almost like Kailua but with chocolate and spices added. A little less alcohol than Kailua."

Mudd grinned widely. "It'd be a hit with your patrons! It's good for breakfast, good with sweets like icoberry tart. Best served steamed or iced." He gave a wink as he added, "I hear that Talarians could easily get drunk on Raktajino."

Sandríne thought about it for a while, tapping a manicured finger on her lips. "All right. Bring me a crate. We'll see if it's a hit."

"Oh, it will, Madame! I'll remember to buy lots of it in the Klingon Empire. You won't regret it. I might come back here in time for the war with the Minbari to be over. My import-export company could extend operations to the Crux Region and you could benefit from the trade I'll get!" Harry gazed into space as he fantasized. "Raktajino bottles all over the Federation and beyond, on the label, 'Imported by Harcourt Mudd'." He shook himself out of his reverie. "Maybe I could get you a tribble as a gift while I'm in Klingon space?"

Sandríne wrinkled her nose in distaste. "A tribble? My friend at K-7 had some trouble with tribbles before. No thanks."

Mudd shrugged. "They will become extinct soon. Might be mighty valuable because of that." He drained the remains of the firewine in his glass and gasped at it.

The proprietress leaned forward on her elbows on the bar. "Really?"

Mudd's eyebrows rose. "Haven't you heard? The Klingons, they're hunting down tribbles everywhere. Last time I was in Klingon space, I heard that pretty soon, they'll be sending a fleet to Iota Geminorum IV to turn that planet into a ball of cinder. If that's true, tribbles will be gone for good."

Sandríne huffed. "Good riddance, if the stories of troubles with tribbles are any indication."

The male merchant shrugged. "Your loss. Mighty cute, I hear, though." He caught sight of a pretty bald Bolian woman chatting with a purple-haired Boslic woman. He clapped his hands and rubbed them gleefully. "I'm going to see if my luck holds tonight."

_Old men._ So that ancient axiom was true about them. Sandríne rolled her eyes and chuckled as she cleaned up the bar table.

***

In a corner of the small restaurant bar annex, a Centauri dressed in a hooded cloak observed all this, nursing a glass of iced tea. The cloak's hood hid the Centauri's fanned hair, making him seem to be a member of one of the many humanoid races in the Federation to the restaurant bar patrons including the two cadets playing pool. Unseen by Sandríne and her patrons, Turo Condari's lips curled in a sneer. If he had any doubt about the Federation's decadence, it was gone. The Centauri Republic was very decadent and had slavery but at least the Centauri did not mingle with alien races sexually. Oh, there were a few who did so, like that Narn diplomat, G'Kar, whose fascination for humanoid alien women was already infamous and was no doubt indulging himself in the pleasures offered by such Paris establishments as the Moulin Rouge at this moment. However, the Federation peoples, on the whole, indulged in such unnatural practices without a thought about the potential consequences.

The Minbari were wise to apply the Sum Nee'Verkaff, the Alien Prohibition, when the ancient Minbari began to contact other worlds. It kept the Minbari people purely Minbari.

Not only that, but the Federation was unbelievably complacent and arrogant despite the victory at Regulus and the punishment of the Earth Alliance worlds by the Warrior Caste. In spite of the fact that the Shadows had stained the peoples and worlds of the Federation, the Federation never had to go through the fire and darkness of total war, as the Minbari had in Valen's War and are experiencing in this present war with the Human nations and their allies. Turo Condari, whose actual name was Nur of the Minbari clan Blood Knives, remembered the stories of Markar'Arabar, how those who would later become disciples of Valen had led the fleets into battle against the Shadows at Ikarra Seven, how the Shadows had torn apart the pride of the Minbari space fleets, less than two hundred years old, how fifteen thousand died there and only three hundred survived.

Oh, the Federation had its birth pangs in the Earth-Romulan War but how quickly and completely its peoples had forgotten the lessons of total war! Here, in this restaurant bar in Marseille, France, Nur could see the same evidence he saw in Paris and in the voyage through the superhighway to Earth, evidence that the Federation peoples had no worries at all beyond satisfying the latest whim they had. Here was a culture of instant gratification, with no thought toward self-discipline or toward the issue of spiritual and racial purity or the rights and wrongs of their positions. How incredibly self-assured they were of their place in the universe! They, who had never been blessed with receiving emissaries from the universe in the form of the Vorlons or any other such higher beings!

While Nur didn't agree with all of Dr. Khali's theories and proposals, he agreed that the Federation needed saving from itself. No one could walk in the Darkness for so long that he couldn't come back (or return) into the Light. However, as long as the Federation remains under control of a secret cabal of puppet masters or its current government intent upon darkening the stars themselves, that couldn't be. For nations to walk in the Light, the conspiracy of Shadows must be excised like the cancer it was.

Khali was right about another thing: The Federation was on the verge of destroying itself. Not for the reasons that that self-centered Human garbage imagined. It pained Nur to admit it but the Federation was defeating the Minbari. As soon as the light of Minbar is snuffed out, the Federation will have handed victory to the Shadows on a silver platter. Everyone knew that if the Shadows had complete victory and the Vorlons are driven away, all who had the potential to threaten these Lords of Chaos would face extinction. Much as he hated to admit it, the Federation had that potential so they would be on top of the list to be exterminated in the event of a complete Shadow victory.

As he watched the patrons go about their own business, he pitied them. Harry Mudd laughing and flirting with the two alien harlots, one of whom looked disturbingly similar to a Minbari except for the purple hair and the lack of a head bone, the proprietress selling liquids that would inspire homicidal insanity in Minbari; the two Starfleet cadets ribbing each other over their play at the pool table without a care in the universe. All of them clueless about the influence of Shadow-spawn and their dark masters in their midst. Nur sipped his iced tea and mentally shook his head at the Federation. They knew not what they were doing for they did not understand the peril to their souls. It would have been interesting if he could have studied their culture more, but time hadn't been on his side. The Centauri Ambassador had placed too much work on him and now it was too late. He needed to focus on his mission.

***

The door into the restaurant opened, admitting a hooded Vulcan man dressed in austere brown-gold robes. The Vulcan looked around, ordered a glass of iced tea from Sandríne and came to Nur's table.

"Turo Condari?"

Nur tensed. Vulcans were the puppet-masters of the Federation despite their protestations to the contrary and he had to be careful around them. "Yes. Why are we meeting here? We could have met at either the Café des Artistes or the Club Ingénue or somewhere like that in Paris."

The Vulcan, uncharacteristically, smiled as he took a seat at Nur's table. "I could be recognized in Paris. Here, no one personally knows me. You're an agent, aren't you?"

Nur tensed even more. Underneath the table, he slowly and discretely reached into the Centauri cloak and gripped a Dunshal air pin. How did this Vulcan know? Was he a telepath? He had known that he'd run the risk of telepaths finding out his true identity by looking into his mind by chance.

The Vulcan chuckled and sipped the iced tea, his balding pate visible under the hood. As far as Nur knew, Vulcans did not chuckle, nor did they smile. "Do not worry. We will not expose you."

'We'? Nur frowned. That one word implied that more than this unusual Vulcan individual knew that his identity as Turo Condari was a cover. He had come to Marseille ostensibly to sample the various Earth cultures but had actually been contacted about a secret rendezvous. He slowly took the Dunshal air pin out of his cloak and aimed it at the Vulcan under the table. The poison darts were lethal and instantaneous simulating a heart attack. It was the weapon of choice when a more tradition weapon was unavailable.

Oblivious to the weapon, the Vulcan continued to speak. "We had expected agents from the Crux Region's powers to come with the diplomats through the Cortour-Terra Anomaly. I am pleased to meet one from Centauri Intelligence." The Vulcan inclined his balding head in respect.

Nur relaxed his grip on the Dunshal trigger. Only a bit. So they did not know his true identity yet. "Why are you…interested in me?"

"You do not drink alcohol. We know that this is unusual among Centauri. That caused us to investigate you. We soon realized that you may be an agent who needs to concentrate on his job. We suspect that you have plans to infiltrate the Federation government and Starfleet. Of course. What major power would not try to ferret out the secrets of another major power, especially one like the Federation? We have agents in all levels. We have observed you making visual studies of the first floor of the Palais de la Concorde."

Nur tensed again. Had he been so obvious? He had been so careful with his excuses of being a tourist and of merely preparing Londo Mollari for the upcoming special session of the Federation Council.

"And…?"

The Vulcan leaned conspiratorially close to Nur. "Mr. Condari, we would like to offer assistance. A…preliminary alliance between the agencies of our two empires, shall we say."

"What type of assistance, Mr.…?"

"Nanclus. Ambassador Nanclus."

Nur stared for a while. An ambassador. Like that creature Sarek back at Becerra Alpha. He must be one of the puppet-masters, then. Nur felt sorely tempted to kill the damned Vulcan. But wait. Was Nanclus was a sign that cracks were appearing in the secret cabal that ruled through their puppets in the Federation Council? Did he represent a faction? Perhaps even…an anti-Shadow faction?

The agent had heard that Vulcans were a logical race. Perhaps some of them saw the logic of coming out of the Darkness into the Light and several of them are working to bring about that salvation. The Darkness thrived on chaos, on disunity. Since that was the Federation's nature, Nur could only take advantage of the unexpected boon it offered tonight.

Ambassador Nanclus took a green solid square out of his robes and slid it across the table to Nur. "In this data-tape, you'll find detailed plans for the Palais, information about the Palais security systems."

Nur slid the tape back to Nanclus. "I don't need your help."

Nanclus slid it to Nur again. "We are not expecting compensation of any kind. Consider this a gift from the Tal Shiar. Of course, there's nothing in the tape that could be traced back to us. We made sure of it." The ambassador drank some more of the iced tea. "It is my hope that the Romulan Star Empire will have closer relations with the Great Centauri Republic in the near future. Our best analysts predict that espionage will…flourish in the near future after the war with the Minbari. Alliances of various types will be…important."

Nur looked down at the data-tape to prevent Nanclus from seeing the surprise in his eyes. So this Nanclus was a Romulan, not a Vulcan. He vaguely recalled the introductions of the Crux Region diplomats to the alien ambassadors at a Palais state dinner in Paris. Now he remembered that Romulans looked indistinguishable from Vulcans. That may be why this ambassador was dressed like a Vulcan. It was to avoid undue attention. Vulcans were commonplace but Romulans…? He idly and briefly wondered if there were physical differences between Vulcans and Romulans like the differences between Humans and Centauri. Again, the lack of opportunity to learn had placed him at a disadvantage in hostile territory.

He was mistaken in assuming Nanclus to be a Vulcan. What other assumptions were mistaken? If only he had had more time to study his adversaries, perhaps he wouldn't have been caught so easily. It was always the small mistakes that ruined an undercover mission. It was a stark reminder of the time constraints he was under.

Ambassador Nanclus' smile appeared and vanished before he nodded solemnly and stood up. "Please convey my regards to Ambassador Mollari and to your intelligence minister, Lord Durano. Jolan tru, Turo Condari."

Wordlessly, Nur nodded and watched Nanclus leave Chez Sandríne. He hid the data-tape in his cloak.

Sometimes, one must use the techniques of the Darkness to fight the Darkness. One day, the Shadows will open their eyes to the Light of Order and regret being Lords of Chaos.

One day….

But not today.

The Light must advance step by step. Even the Minbari had to deal with Markar'Arabar and the later loss of their great starbase before being saved by Valen. Nur needed to deal with the Federation first.

He drank the rest of the iced tea and stood up, tossing a quarter ducat coin onto the table. Going through the door outside, he climbed the few steps up to the street level and looked around the evening vista of Marseille's harbor quay. There was no one following him, no one even interested in him. Perhaps the universe was looking up for Turo Condari, AKA Nur of the Blood Knives of Minbar.

Nur pulled his hood and cloak close against the cool sea breeze and turned to go to one of the city's terminals. Minbari loved the chilled weather. Centauri didn't and for now he was Minbari.

The small things.

The small things…

_**Telepath Annual Retreat Conference**_

_**San Diego California, Federation Earth**_

"Mom, why is Ms. Mehta so angry?" asked Miriam.

Miranda sighed. "She came here hoping that we were suffering from the same types of difficulties and insecurities that they've suffered on their Earth," she explained. "They're much more militant than we are and their motives aren't as straightforward as she wanted us to believe."

"She is kind of uptight," the thirteen year-old said.

Her mother smiled. She hadn't heard that phrase in a long while. "Yes she is. Things are not going as well as she expected."

Indeed, she had been expecting an isolated group of telepathic misfits waiting for a guide to lead them from darkness into the light. But instead she had run head first into something she hadn't really considered and wasn't prepared to handle.

Dr. Androv Povich was speaking now, interrupting her train of thought. "You organization was based on solid premises and I can understand why telepaths on your world had to band together. However, all the information I've seen suggests that it's turning into something ugly and in some cases despicable. Why would I want to possibly join such an organization?"

"What you've heard is rumor and innuendo spread by people who either don't understand us or fear us," Arati countered.

"Do you force children who have telepathic abilities away from their parents who don't?"

"That act is mandate by Earth Alliance law for the safety of both the children and the parents."

"What about the breeding programs instituted by Psi-Corps to produce children with higher levels of telepathy-related abilities and what happens to those children who don't have any telepathy at all?"

"The suggestion that we have a breeding program is disrespectful at the least and outrageous at worst."

"But according to the escaped 'blips' as you call them, this is in fact the case," Povich countered.

"They are malcontents coming here to spread lies about Psi-Corps and everything thing we represent. In fact…"

"Sorry to interrupt, Ms Mehta, but we failed to get your opinion of the multi-species children and how they would fit into the Psi-Corps hierarchy if we were to join. Every image we've seen in the brochures make your people look like a cross between a paramilitary organization and the old style Salvation Army."

"I would be mad if they were speaking to me like that and I'm a kid," Miriam huffed. "Why are they talking to her like that?" It's not her fault Psi-Corps makes them wear gloves. I rather like the idea that I could be in a club for telepaths. It would be nice."

"There's nothing wrong being in a club with people like your," her mother admonished. "In fact, it could be a good experience. You'd make new friends, and see new things. However, there's a difference between a club and what PsiCorps is doing."

"I don't understand?"

"This is how I would describe Psi-Corps, my sweet. It isn't a sorority, or Fraternity or some type of exclusive club. The closest approximation I have to describe it is that is a gang. Their organization doesn't ask that you be a part of them, you're forced into their little clique whether you want it or not. You are separated from your family, forced to wear clothing that separates you from everyone that's not part of your little gang. You're told what to do and they have laws to force to do what they want. They want control of not only what you do but who you can interact with."

"Really?" she asked not liking that definition of Psi-Corps at all.

"Yes, really," her mother responded softly blocking her thoughts as much as she could. "Arati and her entourage came here to recruit the telepaths on our Earth believing that we were just as isolated and alone as they believe themselves to be. But they're wrong and I think Arati is just beginning to realize that she has made a tactical error."

"But why is her coming here a mistake?"

"Because, the Psi-Corps didn't understand that we telepaths here are happy and value our freedom. They also didn't take into consideration that we would find out details they didn't want us to know when that we'd talk to the escaped telepaths on Archanis IV

We can do what we want, when we want, be what we want just like anyone else and we don't have to wear gloves to show that we're different. And," she added, "your friends like the Betazoids and others who share your Human heritage wouldn't be welcomed."

"But why not?" she asked again.

"I think I'll let you reason it out, dear," her mother told her. "Think about it, my dear. Reason it out."

"Well," she began after a moment, "they have different outlooks about life and at least one of their parents is alien."

"Therefore?"

"They wouldn't be trusted by a Human organization," the young girl concluded. "That's what you mean by controlling."

"I don't think they'd like us being a part of Psi-Corps. We wouldn't fit comfortably in their little click. Keep listening."

"Okay."

***

"Exploitation in which you and your organization are also partly to blame, Ms Mehta," the same person interrupted. "I understand the problems your Earth has. What I don't understand your superior attitude battering at my mental defenses every give second."

"Excuse me, Mr.?"

"Dr. Daniel Bryant."

"Dr. Bryant, have I offended you in some way?" Arati asked. "If I have, please explain it to me."

"Don't forget that every single one of us here are telepaths. Most of us are different than you and we 'see' things you're pushing differently than you're assuming that we can. In other worlds, many of us are hearing your words and seeing something else. Forced breeding disgusts me, smacks of eugenics something that most Federation Earth people abhor. No disrespect is intended but you're broadcasting quite heavily, and, you didn't answer the question about the identification of the gene-sequences that govern telepathy?"

"We're very close to identifying the sequences."

"And what happens when you find it?"

"PsiCorps will able to screen embryos and children for telepathy more efficiently, allowing for better protection for those children who would find themselves outcasts. We'll be better able to protect those who would be aborted if their parents found out that they were carrying a child with those gifts."

"You're painting a very bleak picture of your world, Ms Mehta," Professor Arthur Kelly stated. "It makes me wonder why anyone would even consider being part of your organization on your Earth. Maybe it would be better if you all just started a colony of your own. You'd have your own security and probably be happier in the long run."

Arati was angry now and that anger managed to leak through into her words despite frantic warnings from Roberta. Her thoughts were being transmitted despite her best efforts. "Aren't you under some kind of prime directive prohibition for suggesting something like that?"

"No," he answered. "We're not Starfleet; we're not the Federation. We're a part of the Federation. We can ask what we want. Speaking of which, how can we in all sincerity join a society that intends to force people escaping from your grip back to a life they hate?"

"You're wrong. They don't hate us. The Corps is mother and father to them. They have been misguided in their assumptions. We're simply here to remind them of the love that we have for them. That's all we have to do. I'm sure they'll make the right choice."

"I'm amazed you actually believe that, young lady." An elderly woman stood. She looked Human but wasn't. Her eyes gave her away as being alien. "I've listened to everything you've said and I've listened to your thoughts since this is a conference for telepaths. Betazed is a world born of telepathy as much as Vulcan and the world of the Deltans. I can stand her and speak for all of us when we say that your PsiCorps would not welcome us into your little group and we certainly wouldn't want to join. Frankly, you're a bit too immature, too self serving and your agendas are suspect. You're just beginning to see the universe around you but instead you come her hoping to pull others into your little circle. You're young ones just learning to crawl and that frightens you and makes you want to control those around you."

"That's not true. We are trying to survive in a hostile world that fears and despises us."

"Yes, it is, little one," the old woman countered. "It would be better if you come to us and let us teach you."

Arati shook her head. "It appears that I may have erred coming here and asking my fellow cousins to join us. It was for your sakes that we came here. Together we may have been stronger, but I see that this will not happen."

"Your conclusion is illogical," a full Vulcan telepath told her. "I can understand the importance of such an organization. I do not however believe that your method is productive for your people. I also do not believe that one such as I or anyone with higher ratings that your p-thirteen, would be accepted by your people."

"There's some truth to your argument," Arati conceded. 'We don't have more than three P-thirteens!' "This is all new to us as well, meeting other Humans and aliens working together. We're learning as we go along. PsiCorps isn't some evil entity trying to subvert telepaths and take over Earth. We just want to survive and live on our own terms."

Dr. Androv Povich stood up once more. "I'd like to get back to your opinion concerning my theory on Humanity and the telepathy conciliation. If it's true then why might there have been such a radical increase of mutations or telepaths among your people in the last one hundred years?"

"I have no idea. I'm not a biological evolutionary scientist therefore I'm not qualified to give an answer to your question."

"I understand that. But if that theory is true, then might your increase of telepaths on your world be a result of some artificial or aberrant condition? If Humans select against telepathy as it seems to do on just about every Human-occupied world in the Alpha quadrant, then how do you account for the radical increase in numbers, not only on your Earth but on some of the other worlds and species in your territories as well?"

"I have no idea…"

***


	14. Chapter 14

JC: About 4 more chapters before the end. To everyone thank you for the kind comments on all of the stories. AG

_**Chapter Fourteen**_

_**Paris, France, Earth**_

_**United Federation of Planets**_

Dr. Khali craned his head to take in the sight of the gold-tipped Obelisk of Ramses II rising in the center of the Place de la Concorde in front of the Palais de la Concorde. The red granite obelisk, still displaying its ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs and standing on the French pedestal with its gold images of how the obelisk was transported from Egypt and erected here, was flanked by the two Concorde fountains, splashing water. If he turned to his right, to the north, he'd see the old royal buildings of the five-star Hôtel de Crillon and its twin, the old French Naval Ministry, now serving as the Federation Ministry of the Exterior. Down the Rue Royale between the identical buildings, he could see the Church of the Madeleine built like a wide Roman temple.

To his left was the River Seine and the Pont de la Concorde allowing access across the river to the Palais Bourbon, now serving as a museum, and almost a mirror image of the Madeleine Church. In the near distance, Khali could see the famous Tour Eiffel reaching for the sky.

– All the same as Paris on his Earth. It was when he looked straight beyond Pharaoh Ramses II's obelisk that things were different. The oval-cylindrical glass façade of the Palais de la Concorde rose sixteen floors tall and housed the nexus of Federation government. . Wide arches raised the Palais to allow the Avenue des Champs-Élysées to run uninterrupted from the Arc de Triomphe to the Place de la Concorde underneath the Palais. Even now, a traffic of odd-looking, but sleek ground vehicles ran between the flanking statues of rampant horses on their high pedestals. Pedestrians, both Human and alien, walked everywhere. Some were clearly tourists, taking pictures of this and that with cameras unknown in the Earth Alliance.

Someone had told him that the Palais was built in the style of the French Third Empire. Khali could care less except that it informed him that where his France elected a totalitarian government some time before the Third World War, this world's France had an Emperor for the third time in its history. Yet more indications that both Earths had the same history until it diverged somewhere during the last year of the American President Bill Clinton's administration. Khali's Clinton had established a Commission on the Future while this Earth's Clinton did no such thing. He wondered whether the cloning of Earth occurred sometime in the 1990's.

Cloning, not copying.

Even if Federation Earth was a clone of Alliance Earth, there were several physical differences: Gravett Island near the Polynesian islands didn't exist on Khali's Earth; the Hermosa Earthquake in 2047 sank part of Los Angeles into the Pacific Ocean, which didn't occur on his Earth.

Speaking of the future….

Khali took a deep breath. Today was the day of the special session of the Federation Council. He strode across the plaza, passed one of the rampant horse statues and made a beeline straight for one of the four thick pillars holding up the corners of the Palais. He looked around anxiously. Where could his assistants be?

He fumed. He knew that he was early but they should already be here! He had specifically told Theresa Anderson and Samuel Vernon to meet him at the Palais entrance. Theresa could be so stubborn and it would be just like her to deviate from his specific instructions. It would also be just like her to bully poor Samuel into following her. He was a good student, that one. Never one to confront his mentor, but Professor Khali knew that he didn't have the strength of personality to resist the likes of Theresa. Still, he was ideal for molding. If he had his way, he'd flunk Theresa so hard no amount of brilliance on her part could ever admit her into any doctorate program in the Ivy League. Her family was very wealthy and influential, though. And she knew things, _or thought she did…_

He sighed peevishly, went through the entrance in the nearest thick pillar and swiped his ID through a scanner set on the desk in front of the Starfleet Security guard within. The guard nodded and pressed a button which opened the turbolift at the end of the marble lobby. Once Khali was in the lift, it automatically took him up to the first floor.

When the lift doors slid open, Khali saw that other people had the same thought as his: getting to the Council early. In the well-appointed antechamber with black marble floor, councilors, ambassadors and reporters milled while two helmeted and armored Starfleet Security guards flanked the monumental silver doors to the council chamber. There were aliens of all types, shapes and colors among the councilors and ambassadors: humanoid aliens with big hair; with leather head-bands wrapped like turbans; with netting on the face; with purple skin; with yellow skin and horizontal nose slits. Other aliens that Khali recognized to be Andorian, Tellarite, Vulcan, Deltan, Catullan, Tiburonian, Klingon, Gorn, Horta and myriad others. What he would do to have some time speaking to a Horta. The social history of living rocks would be worth several papers.

There were two Vulcan men wearing dark grey robes with black linings and headdresses that reminded Khali of the Egyptian pharaoh's headdress, with a red triangular stone set in gold on the crown of the headdresses. The older Vulcan seemed stern, had a large ruby red square on his chest and an insignia that looked like a sword thrust into the type of a celestial globe. That identified the older man as the Vulcan councilor while the slightly less old man was his aide, wearing a gold squiggle, likely a symbol from the Vulcan language, in the middle of a large black triangle on the chest.

He'd like to avoid these Vulcans. The ones he'd met were too stubborn, to set in their ways, not open to new ideas or even self-evident truths. So many aliens. There was even a couple of that dwarfish alien race with the copper skin, the Ithenites. Khali had known that the Federation had one hundred or so member worlds but knowing and seeing were different things. To make matters worse, this special session was open to ambassadors from alien worlds that were not part of the Federation. Their presence would interfere with humanity's conversation. The Federation Humans needed to keep this in the family.

Despite the confusion of aliens, Khali easily spotted Ambassadors G'Kar and Mollari. As he made his way to them, he passed a Deltan councilor who wore a white robe, a jeweled string strung from the belt on the right side to the left shoulder, and an odd hat that looked like a collection of leaves made of gold leaf.

And Khali was imagining the Deltan man naked.

Gasping in shock at that, he quickly moved away from the bald alien man. Khali should have remembered that Deltans had powerful pheromones and their subconscious telepathy constantly worked on all those close to them.

G'Kar and Londo Mollari were watching Khali with knowing interest. Their aides stood a respectful distance behind them. One of the aides was making sure that his ostentatious brooch was arranged just right on his coat.

"How did you like that?" teased G'Kar.

Khali glared at the Narn ambassador.

Londo chuckled. "These Deltans are fascinating, yes? I would daresay that the goddess Li is the patroness of Delta IV. Dress their women in tight bodices, wide skirts, laces and some jewels and you'd mistake them for Centauri ladies but much more alluring, hmmm?"

"Much more compatible with my people than yours, Mollari," said G'Kar, grinning, before Khali could answer.

Londo feigned concern. "I was told that unprepared humanoids risk insanity by coupling with Deltans. Something about a total immersion of the minds." He looked as if a thought had just occurred to him. "I've heard that you've tried to bed some Deltans, G'Kar." Londo frowned at his Narn counterpart. "I completely fail to understand why you're so fascinated with bedding non-Narn women, especially Humans. And now Human-looking aliens, too. Then again, Narns are prone to seeking insanity." The Centauri ambassador bared his teeth in a grin. "Feeling insecure about your…compatibility with other Narns?"

G'Kar narrowed his red eyes at Londo. "It's not your business to know how I do things in bed, Mollari."

"Or fail to do." Londo smiled again. "I've heard that all of the Deltans have refused your advances. Something about…" Londo pretended to recall something difficult to remember, waving a hand by his head. "…being…'sexually immature', isn't it?"

While Londo was laughing, G'Kar shot back. "At least I don't spend time oppressing worlds and eat babies in my free time!"

"Look here—!"

Khali rolled his eyes at the two bickering aliens and sidled away from them. Sometimes he thought that they acted like a married couple. In fact they seemed to be overdoing it somewhat considering the present company. Apparently, the rumored deal between their two nations was being forced upon them and all they could do was snip at each other. He spotted Theresa and Samuel.

"There you are! I've been waiting for you! Why weren't you there at the entrance, Miss Anderson?"

"Professor, we—"

Khali cut her off with a raised hand. "Miss Anderson, it doesn't matter." He sighed as he squeezed the bridge of his nose. "We were invited to this council session. However, I was invited to speak in it. Not you. It doesn't matter if you show up or not. I can see that you're not motivated as my assistant. Mr. Vernon could take up your workload if you're so stressed that you cannot make it on time."

Theresa knew Khali meant she'd get a bad grade. Fire burned in her eyes. "We were on time. You were early. Right, Samuel?"

Samuel Vernon widened his eyes at the question. He never liked getting in the middle of these arguments. "Uh, well, I-I didn't know the time…." He trailed off lamely. More and more, Dr. Johnson's assistantship in psychology looked better and better. This stress was getting to him. He had to get out before they killed each other.

Khali speared the young male graduate student with his eyes. "What's your excuse, Mr. Vernon?"

God, how he hated being trapped between the two of them! "Well, I…I was organizing some of your notes and I…forgot the time." Samuel shrugged. "Theresa got me."

The sound of a gong reverberated throughout the antechamber and the huge silver doors slid open. The councilors and ambassadors began to file into the council chamber.

Dr. Khali nodded. "All right" She got away this time. But he luck was bound to run out and when it did, he'd finally have an excuse to get rid of her. "At least you're here. I hope the both of you can learn from this session," he announced with supreme arrogance, something he could do since he had in essence their future lives in his hands. "You're very lucky to be here and I really hope that you appreciate that." That last sentence was directed at both students but Khali was looking straight at Theresa who showed that she understood by pursing her lips.

The professor turned and joined the crowd flowing through the open doors, followed by his young protégées.

Khali felt a mild thrill when he entered the huge chamber that took up most of the first floor of the Palais de la Concorde. Below the floor ran the Champs-Élysées, which the Palais straddled upon duranium arches. It was here in this room that much of the Federation government work was done. Though the building was cylindrical, the council chamber was rectangular. In front of the south wall was a marble platform reachable by three marble steps. On that and to the side was the glass podium emblazoned with the symbol of the United Federation of Planets, which matched the Great Seal put upon recessed red wall between flat marble pillars on the south wall itself. Also on the platform to the other side from the podium and set slantwise were three throne-like seats. That podium was where the leader of the session stood, and was where the Federation President stood during full council sessions.

This one was to be a full council session. The Federation President, an Efrosian man named Ra'ghoratreii, was standing at the podium, gazing at the milling crowd through delicate-looking spectacles. The blueness of his eyes was in stark contrast with his flowing paper-white hair and partial goatee, and his dark suit.

Khali swallowed and looked around. Why was he getting nervous? On the east wall were three rows of twenty seats each, with a matching set on the west wall. These one hundred and twenty seats were for the councilors, which currently numbered one hundred. Khali had learned that when the chamber was first built, there was only one row on either side. When the one hundred and twenty-first planet join the Federation, two more rows would be added to keep the room's balance, and allow for the next two-score worlds to be added to the Federation's members.

The north wall gallery above the silver doors was where spectators, including reporters, Starfleet officers and government staffers, were allowed to observe open sessions. Special guests and ambassadors, though, were sometimes allowed to sit in the empty seats in the councilors' rows. Klingon Ambassador Kamarag was already sitting in one of these empty seats, as far away from Romulan Ambassador Nanclus as possible.

In front of the marble stepped platform was the speaker's floor, centered on the Federation Great Seal set in the pure black marble floor polished to a reflective shine. With the exception of the President, no one could speak to the council except from that floor. Khali was told that councilors could speak to each other or via the workstations in front of them to people outside the chamber. In full council sessions, any official council statements for the record had to come either from the podium or the floor. Whoever designed the room had arranged the slant of the ceiling in such a way that the space was almost acoustically perfect. One could clearly hear every word from the floor no matter where you sat.

It was there on that floor that Khali and the other special guests would make their speeches.

As he made his way to his seat in the first west row with G'Kar, Londo and their aides, the Federation Council began with the usual tedious business, including taking a roll call. Ninety-six of the councilors were present. Those who were absent were away to investigate matters on their homeworlds. Starfleet Security guards in their ceremonial helmets and armor stood at intervals at the back of the south wall platform and flanked the entrance into the council chamber. Three high Federation officials were seated in the thrones on the platform. Khali recognized them to be Vice-President St. John Talbot, Exterior Secretary Adam Zagrin and blue-skinned Interior Secretary Amitra of Pandril.

Khali was interested to note that the Federation Council was arranged in a similar way to that of the old British Parliament which may itself have been based on the arrangement of the ancient Roman Senate. This was in marked contrast with the Earth Alliance Senate which was arranged like the old United States Senate in the Palais des Nations in Geneva, Switzerland. He wondered whether the arrangement would have any effect on how star nations could be governed.

Once the preliminaries were out of the way, the silver doors to the council chamber slid shut and President Ra'ghoratreii paused for a moment before speaking.

"Sixty-one years ago, the people of the Federation elected a Trill woman by the name of Madza Bral to be their President. She was the first person not from one of the five founding worlds to serve in that office. She served two terms and then declined to run for a third, citing exhaustion and old age. She said in what was essentially her retirement speech. This is what she said and I quote: 'The presidency is quite possibly the worst job in the Federation. The hours are long, the work is difficult, and the decisions that have to be made are unimaginable to anyone who has never set foot in the Palais de la Concorde. Your successes are unappreciated, your failures are blown all out of proportion, and your life disintegrates before your very eyes. And having said all that, I would never, under any circumstance, trade the last eight years for anything."

"I sometimes find myself in agreement with President Bral."

There were a few chuckles in the council chamber.

"However, the presidency gives me the enviable job of welcoming new species to what I hope will be a long and fruitful relationship with the United Federation of Planets. My friends, we are here to welcome the delegations from the Earth Alliance, the Centauri Republic and the Narn Regime."

Applause rose within the council chamber as Khali, G'Kar and Mollari stood, bowing their thanks. When the applause died down, Ra'ghoratreii continued.

"The first speaker for this special session of the Federation Council is Dr. Amir Rajiv Khali, a noted specialist in xeno-psychology and xeno-politics and an accredited professor of the Earth Alliance's Harvard University, an institute that is just as highly respected as our Harvard University in the Federation. Without further ado, the podium recognizes the delegate from the Earth Alliance."

Was it Khali's imagination, or did Ra'ghor sound slightly pained when he opened the floor for him? He put that out of his mind as he stood up, walked down the steps out of the councilor rows to stand right in the center of the Federation Great Seal on the floor. He took a deep breath and began:

_"Ex astris scientia._ Those words are the motto of your Federation Starfleet Academy. It's from an old Human language called Latin. Nobody's spoken it conversationally for several hundred years but we like to use it once in a while to make ourselves sound more interesting. For those who do not have the benefit of Human classical education, it means, 'From the stars, knowledge.'

"The thing about the stars is that they do provide knowledge, but that comes with a concomitant risk. Nothing underlines that risk more than the fact that we are at war with an alien species bent on genocide and other crimes against sentience. The Federation Starfleet, due to the unfortunate accident of the Minbari misidentifying Regulus as a distant Earth Alliance colony, contacted my people. Starfleet proceeded to save us from the Minbari juggernaut.

"Or did they?"

There were murmurings among the audience in the council chamber. At the podium, Ra'ghor adjusted his spectacles with concern. Dr. Khali continued to speak.

"There's an old Human saying: knowledge is power. Another one says that power corrupts. While we were in transit through what you call the Courtor-Terra Superhighway, we came into contact with starships from the future of an alternate universe. From them, we found out that in that alternate universe, the Minbari surrendered at Earth's very doorstep. That fact leads us to the amazing conclusion that my people survived the Earth-Minbari War without the Federation's help. In fact, the Federation's help escalated the present war to a point beyond anything in that alternate universe. That point resulted in the prolonging of the war and in the Minbari nuclear bombing of my people's colonies such as Beta 9. From these facts and more besides, we must come to the inescapable conclusion that the guilt of the slaughter of innocents must be laid at the doorstep of the Federation Starfleet."

The murmurs grew a little louder as councilors, ambassadors and government staffers turned to each other in shock and surprise. In the spectator gallery above the massive closed doorway into the council chamber, reporters furiously jotted down notes. In the front councilor row, Theresa Anderson threw her face into the palm of her hand.

"We must also come to another inescapable conclusion: alien influence is detrimental to Humanity."

The murmuring among the alien ambassadors and councilors grew much louder at that until President Ra'ghor banged a gavel on his podium, calling for order and quiet. Several councilors had to resist the urge to turn on the light in front of them, signaling a desire to come to the floor and verbally spar with Dr. Khali. In their high-backed chairs, Secretaries Adam Zagrin and Amitra whispered to each other while Vice-President St. John Talbot gripped the arms of his chair hard.

"From those starships from the future of an alternate universe, we found out that an ancient race known simply as the Shadows imposed undue influence on the peoples of my region, including the Earth Alliance. In that universe, Senator William Morgan Clark, God bless his soul, became President of the Earth Alliance, and the Shadows proceeded to dupe him into causing a disastrous civil war among my people.

"This is not to say that we, I, do not appreciate the invaluable assistance you have provided so far for the Earth Alliance. Far from it. However, the blood that the Minbari has spilled so far in this war is on your hands. No one can wash their hands and claim innocence.

"Nevertheless, I come to you, not to antagonize you but to repay you in kind by personally helping you. If history's any guide—and it usually is, political entities that involve such disparate alien species and cultures cannot stand serious scrutiny. Left to themselves and deprived of any great menace with which to unite them, union is difficult at best unless a dominant species steps forward to take up the burden of governance and guidance. The Centauri knew this. The Narn are finding this out. The Romulans and the Klingons know this. In this Federation, Humanity is the glue that holds you together and the Vulcans are the peacemakers among you. Take them away, the Federation would not, cannot, exist. The more the Federation grows, the more difficult the task of governance and guidance becomes.

"One of Isaac Newton's laws is that what goes up must come down. Empires, no matter their form and type, all rise and fall. That is a fact of history, however much we might not like it for our current nations. Usually, a large interstellar empire needs one single dominant species to maintain it—look at the Centauri. At the height of their power, the Centauri controlled over one hundred fifty star systems. And now, the Centauri Republic is down to twelve systems and a thousand monuments to past glories, living off memories and stories.

Londo Mollari shifted in his seat. He wasn't sure he appreciated Khali using the Centauri as an example and a warning of the Federation's possible future.

"The Federation hasn't had a real war since the Four Years War almost fifty years ago and that was just a war to repel Klingon invaders from Federation territory. Just twenty-five years ago, you had thirty member worlds, not counting colonies. Now, with the recent entrance of Betazed into the Federation, you now have one hundred member worlds, again not counting colonies—a seventy-percent growth rate. Seventy-percent growth rate in just twenty-five years."

Khali shook his head as if he was amazed. "Such a rapid expansion over two decades cannot be stable or sustainable for any star nation. As the Centauri found out centuries ago and you will discover, there is a size limit to any interstellar political entity. Granted, Centauri rule was stable for two hundred years before worlds began to slip through their fingers, but that was just one dominant species governing all. You have one hundred different worlds all equally involved in Federation government. I have never seen such a political entity as the Federation before, though there is a resemblance to the League of Non-Aligned Worlds—a collection of cold wars between worlds that constantly backstab each other and look for ways to get the upper hand over each other. That example does not make me optimistic about the future outlook of the Federation. Having a multi-species nature in a government is a recipe for political and military disaster. The Federation's rapid growth will push you to the point where the Federation flies apart. One day, the Federation will polarize into factions, and that in itself provides the potential for civil war."

Ra'ghor raised his white eyebrows at that and took off his spectacle to clean it with a handkerchief, softly muttering to himself under his breath as Khali continued speaking.

"The Federation has been holding itself together due to threats of the Romulan and Klingon Empires. The Klingons, as a threat, are gone and replaced by the Minbari. Remember what the Soviet propagandist Georgi Arbatov said when Soviet Union fell in the late 20th century: 'We're going to do the worst thing we can do to you. We are going to take your enemy away from you.' You need enemies as a reason to exist. The Federation exists because of the Earth-Romulan War. Of course, your ideals are all good but they're too abstract to be the only reason to exist. Your Starfleet has starships that have sufficient weaponry to lay waste to entire planets—not really much of a peaceful message of your ideals, is it?

"There are many reasons for the continued existence of the Federation as a cohesive political entity, one of which is the Helsinki Complex."

Again, murmurs rose among the audience in the council chamber. This time, it was quieter and full of confusion and puzzlement.

"The Helsinki Complex," repeated Khali to emphasize the point. "It is like Stockholm Syndrome except that it is applied to associations with aliens. As we meet more advanced aliens, we'd have cases where people adore, even worship, those aliens. This worship eventually becomes a kind of self-hatred where the worshipper tries to be like those more advanced aliens and make others around him do the same. Though you do not know this theory that prevails among the Earth Alliance intelligentsia, you acknowledge it with the Prime Directive. The Prime Directive protects your pre-FTL worlds from the Helsinki Complex, at least until they achieve faster-than-light travel technology. The fact that no major star nation has joined the Federation is very telling. All of your member worlds have been small non-aligned planets that were attracted to the Federation and were lured into joining. It would appear that the Federation is taking full advantage of that psychological aspect to expand and maintain such a huge territory.

"You might deny that, even criticize it. Remember the old axiom: If you want to know about water, do not ask a fish.

_"Sic semper tyrannis. _Another Latin phrase which means 'thus always to tyrants'. It holds special meaning for those Humans who are aware of the histories of Rome and America. It is also a warning for all who hears it. Should any species seek to dominate an empire, the local species and races will resent their rulers or government. You are cognizant of that danger by enforcing the Prime Directive. Sic semper tyrannis. The Minbari have used terror to tyrannize us. A basic tenet of civilized behavior is to treat others as you would have others treat you. Since the Minbari treat us with contempt and genocidal hatred, they will receive the same treatment in kind—"

In the rows where several of his Federation contemporaries were, he saw to his immediate shock that some of them were openly laughing at him! Laughing! He expected shock, even hostility coming from them, but not laughter! By some unnamed reflex, he glanced at his grad students. Miss Anderson's face was filled with contempt, something that was far too common coming from her. But there was also something else. Embarrassment. But then he mused, what did she know?

In the councilor rows, one of Londo Mollari's two aides stood up, causing Khali to pause in his speech to look at him in affronted surprise. President Ra'ghor banged his gavel once more, saying, "I am aware that many of you desire a rebuttal of Dr. Khali's speech, but you must have the patience and politeness to wait until he is finished."

"I doubt that my good friend, Turo Condari, will rebut me," Khali said with a smile. A friend in a room filled with the ignorant and confused was most welcomed. "In fact—"

***

He couldn't stand it any more. Khali's prattling insulted him and his people to no end. The choices of the Minbari were the Minbari's alone! For good or evil, they took responsibility for their actions, not blamed others. Besides Khali's conclusions were incredibly wrong. Apparently the universe of that other ship didn't have a Federation to go to war with it. That vessel and the Klingon warship were from yet another universe. The variables were comprehensively different. If the learned professor had been able to see beyond himself for just ten seconds, he might have realized that. But he was just a Human and a sad excuse for one at that. However he had served his purpose and all eyes were upon him, allowing the perfect cover for the dagger to strike before anyone could do anything about it. Here he was in the very heart of the Federation seat of power to do with as he will.

Nur could have detonated the explosives at any time; however a point had to be made. Before they all died, they had to know that the Minbari were a power not to be trifled with. Even at death's door they could strike, sending a final knife into the very heart of their enemies. If Minbar fell, then there would be no glory for these who allied themselves with darkness. They would know in their final instants of life that the light always prevailed.

Turo Condari spoke quietly, but thanks to the council chamber's acoustic design, all could hear him and Khali was interrupted yet again. "Death rides on my shoulder, death walks in my footsteps. I am death."

Londo Mollari was trying to shush him and order him to sit down. But then Turo gripped his left hand with his right hand, shouted, "For the vengeance of the Blood Knives and to Minbar's glory!" and twisted it down hard so that his wrist broke. The snap of bones breaking was quite audible in the council chamber.

The people gathered within the chamber and watching the proceedings on view-screens outside it were shocked. But no one was more shocked than the Centauri ambassador.

The helmeted and armored guards stepped forward toward Turo.

When nothing happened as Turo expected, he snarled, snatched a brooch off of his coat and grabbed Londo's neck with his left arm, holding the brooch's pin to his neck.

"Stop! The pin has instant poison!"

The guards paused.

G'Kar launched himself across Londo's body and quickly grabbed hold of Turo's intact hand holding the brooch, and twisted the broken hand with his other gloved hand. Turo screamed at the unexpected pain and G'Kar used the opportunity to send the brooch flying out to the floor between the councilor rows. Twisting away from G'Kar, Turo stumbled backward and the Klingon Ambassador Kamarag backhanded the agent so hard he fell over the barrier to the floor.

Before Turo could reach the poisoned brooch, one of the guards fired a phaser at him, stunning him.

The Romulan ambassador merely sighed. Incompetence bored him, although in this case it might have proven to be a good thing for everyone here including himself if what he suspected was true.

***

Khali watched all this with his mouth hanging open. As he tried to recover, mouth opening and closing like a fish, the guards picked up Turo's unconscious body and carried him out of the chamber.

Kamarag looked up at the assembled dignitaries and shrugged at those who were looking at him, including Nanclus.

The light in front of the female Betazoid councilor lit up. Shakily, Ra'ghor noticed and banged his gavel for attention. "The podium recognizes the councilor from Betazed."

Instead of coming down to the floor, Reida Suder, First Mistress of the Betazoid Parliament, stood up and wondered aloud, "Why did he break his wrist like that? If he wanted to kill somebody, that's a very pointless way of going about it."

President Ra'ghor shakily turned to one of the guards, "Do you have any explanation?"

The guarded nodded. "Yes, Mr. President. He thought that by breaking his wrist, he'd trigger a chemical bomb inside his body. Starfleet detected it and removed it while beaming Mr. Condari in a transporter. If the bomb had been intact, there would have been a detonation in the sub-nuclear range."

Khali blanched as he realized that meant the Palais and a large part of Paris would have been destroyed, killing all within and a sizable portion of the general population. And he immediately realized that he was friends with a terrorist. But why?

A light lit up in front of the Tellarite councilor.

"The podium recognizes the councilor from Tellar."

The Tellarite stood up and shouted in anger, "The Centauri wanted us all dead! This means war! I move that we punish the Centauri for this!"

Many other councilors nodded and loudly murmured their assent. Londo's face went pale.

Another light lit up, signaling a desire to speak.

Surprised at the identity of the person who requested the right to speak to the Council, Ra'ghor banged his gavel again for quiet and attention. He said, "The podium recognizes the ambassador from Narn."

G'Kar stood and loudly said, "Despite their numerous acts of unrestrained barbarism towards my people and many other peoples throughout our regions of space, I can't see Londo Mollari or the Centauri people perpetrating such a heinous act against those whom they have established positive political and economical ties with."

Everyone in the chamber stared at G'Kar with surprise. All knew about the antagonism between the Narn and Centauri and about the seemingly personal antagonism between G'Kar and Londo.

The guard had been whispering into Ra'ghor's ear while G'Kar was speaking. The President banged his gavel once for attention and said, "Very commendable, Ambassador G'Kar. In fact, you're right. Mr. Condari is not Centauri. He's a Minbari genetically and cosmetically modified to infiltrate the Centauri embassy in order to carry out his mission against us."

That was the last straw for Dr. Khali. Not only was Turo a terrorist but he was actually a Minbari with whom he felt friendship! He fainted.

***

Londo gazed up at G'Kar. It touched him that a Narn like G'Kar whom he had once dreamed would kill him in the future would defend Londo and his people. When G'Kar looked back down at him, Londo opened his mouth, trying to find words.

After a moment, Londo finally said softly, "I still hate you." He couldn't help it.

_Victory!_ G'Kar smiled, wanted to bow, but managed to refrain himself. For this glorious occasion only one word seemed best to sum exactly how he felt at this moment.

"Good."

_**USS Monroe**_

_**Archanis IV**_

It was night when the Federation ship arrived over Archanis IV. Twelve visitors the Sheridans, General Lupinsky, Captain Sinclair, PsiCorps specialist Toni Williams, Psicop Alfred Bester and six Federation personnel beamed down to the middle of the busy square. They young people stopped and stared, laughing at the queasy looks on some of the visitors apparently having trouble adjusting to the transport procedure.

It was late evening but the city of twenty thousand was packed with people going about their business. Sinclair was impressed by the buildings and the architectural structure surrounding him. The night sky was absolutely spectacular with the entire view filled with stars and even a couple of nebula visible to the naked eye. He was still gaping at the scenery as two young men approached them.

One of them gave a slight nod. "Captain Miller? Distinguished guests, welcome to Archanis IV colony."

The captain of the Monroe returned the nod. "Thank you, James. It's good to see you again. How are the kids?"

"Growing like weeds. Kennedy lost her tooth."

"Good for her. I have a gift for her I'll give to you later. I believe the governor is expecting us."

"Yes, if you will all follow me?"

As they walked into the building, Miller commented on the improvements since his last visit.

"Ah, yes. We've had several new immigrations in the last few months including a small group of Tellarites," he smirked. "We also had the Earth Alliance escapees and their telepaths. They've had a few problems adjusting but they're doing fine."

"Those untrained telepaths are dangerous," Tony interjected much to Sinclair's irritation. "Are you keeping them isolated from the rest of the community?"

"Why would we do that? We've not had any problems with them. The social workers and Vulcan specialists have been helping them adjust to their new situation. They're doing a bit better than the Earth Alliance colonists are to them. There's some type of prejudice between them but it's been fading that the kids are here in the city doing quite well."

"They're not doing well," Tony huffed. "They hijacked an Earth Alliance ship during a time of war. They subverted the crew and violated dozens of Earth Alliance regulations. They're not stable and need to be home where they belong."

"Well, you'll have to talk to the governor about that. In the morning we'll be able to talk to their representatives."

Sinclair remained silent, glancing at John and David during the short, terse exchange. It was blatantly obvious that the PsiCorps rep had no interest in talking. This was going to be a problem.

***


	15. Chapter 15

_**Chapter 15**_

_**Archanis IV **_

_**The City of Ashburn**_

_**Time: 823 PM**_

The official meeting between the Psi-Corps members and the local government wouldn't happen until morning however the unofficial meeting between the Earth Alliance survivors of the _Springfield_ and the _Farlin_ happened about an hour after the Earth Alliance officers and personnel were settled into their rooms at the hotel. The Archanis Hills hotel was a mid-sized affair with more than decent accommodations. Sinclair was pleased, finding it to be very Earth-like, something his mind expected of course, but his heart hadn't been quite prepared for it although he was adjusting. Federation Earth had been a magnificent, but somehow alien copy of the real thing. But here, it was like visiting home. The stars were different and the flora and fauna obviously alien but the place felt like something Humans built – which of course they had – for the most part. Two Earths: the same, but different. Honestly, it was confusing as logic warred with his emotions concerning the incredible changes that had happened in his life these last few months. The universe had opened up and he had no idea of where things were going. The events were starting to come to the fore, demanding the attention he'd suppressed more or less since this whole journey began. He needed some air and about to put on a jacket when someone knocked at the door. David Sheridan and his son John were there with their jackets on and when they saw him with his on as well they smiled knowingly.

"We were going out for some air and take in a few quick sights," the older Sheridan said. "Like to come with us?"

"I was just thinking about that myself, sir," he answered quickly.

He grabbed his keycard and followed them to the elevators. Amazingly, and typically none of them felt a thing as the lift took them to the first floor. Reaching the main lobby, they exited and of one accord went straight to the bar.

"Gents," David said, "a couple of our citizens wanted to meet with me a local restaurant, tonight. They did not sound happy." He looked at them both as if begging for moral support of friends and family. "Might as well get this show started. I don't know about you but I need a drink."

Jeffery exhaled nosily, having thought of the same thing. All three of them ordered at the bar. The barman quickly prepared their drinks and the three of them sat nursing them, enjoying the moment before they started to talk.

"I was barely inside my room before I started getting calls from the Earth Alliance refugees here. They wanted to talk and talk now." He took a sip of his scotch. "I compromised and asked them to send a small group for now and we'd have the full meeting tomorrow around noon. Apparently, there's a lot of apprehension about our presence and why we're here."

"Okay, that does not sound promising," John said as he took a drink of his own.

"Yep. It was enough so that a few of them wanted an ad hoc meeting tonight, not tomorrow.

"Ah." Jeffery nodded, understanding now. "They want to know if we're going to try to force them back."

"Apparently," he said. "I told them as civilian refugees from an Earth Alliance colony, I would talk to them about coming home but we're not here to force them to return if they don't want to go back." He took another sip. "I don't think they believed me."

"Some of them will undoubtedly want to return," John said. "But I can certainly see why a lot of them wouldn't."

"Home is home," his father countered. That was the official stand by Earth Alliance whether he agreed to it or not. "Think about it," he said. "Look around here. They call this a colony! Not like the colonies at home," he said stating the obvious. "You've read the reports. They have their own homes here, their own land, plenty of space to stretch out. Peaceful next door neighbors with superior technology. No worries about life support failing, no fears of food shortages. No fears about the Minbari coming to kill them all. If they go home, where are they going to go, back to Earth? They're pioneers! They left Earth because they wanted to start somewhere fresh in the first place. Why should they want to go back?"

"Personally, I'm agreeing with you, son. But," and here he huffed, "it's my job to try to convince the civilians to return to Earth Alliance territory. Things have changed. Nobody here or at home believes that the Minbari have a snowball's chance of surviving the next two weeks. Everybody knows that this war is effectively over with the exception of the mop up, and people are starting to look forward to the future now that we're not facing extinction. That's why our government sent me here. As for the military here, Earthforce policy is clear on this matter. They are to return to Earth Alliance be debriefed, finish their tour of duty and they can do what they want. The civilians though are a different story." He paused for a moment to take in the scenery and to take another sip. "We're afraid of a hemorrhaging of Earth Alliance citizens."

"Senator, the allure here is strong," acknowledged Sinclair, "and to say that I'm not tempted to stay for a while myself would be a lie. It's like Lefcourt said. There's newness here, a vitality that we don't have on Earth Alliance which begs the question, why don't we? With respect, exactly what are we afraid of?"

"Explain, please."

"Sir," continued Jeffery, "as we've discussed on the ship on the way here. What happens when the war is over? People are going to compare how Mars here is a free, independent world while ours is basically a corporation puppet. You know what's happening there. The people have very little independence and most of them have very little respect for Earth Alliance and ties to Earth in general. The corporations are bleeding the citizens there dry and the government has done nothing to stop them. I won't even touch the Mars stance on the war."

"Plus, several of the colonies were destroyed by the Minbari and we weren't able to stop them."

"We couldn't have stopped them in time, you know that," David protested.

"True, but it's the perception that you're about to confront here, sir."

"Thanks for the headache," David mused.

"You're welcome, dad," said John with sympathy. He was glad that he wasn't in charge of this.

"Sorry, sir," Sinclair added.

"Thanks," the senator said while he took one last gulp, finishing his drink. _'Oh-uh'._ Standing up, he winked to the other two. "Time to get this show started."

At the same hotel another group of Earth Alliance representatives were preparing for a meeting of their own. Both psi-cops Alfred Bester and Roberta Yang were sitting quietly in Toni's room waiting for her to finish reading Arati's report. From the look on her face, Arati's seminar on Earth hadn't gone as well as expected with the other-Earthborn telepaths, not even close. It was to be expected but still came as somewhat of a disappointment. Her mental shields were up so she was sure that Alfred and Roberts hadn't picked up on the details, although she was positive that some of her emotions had leaked. Both officers, at their level of sensitivity would have noticed such a thing.

"Arati's communiqué isn't the best of news," she told her fellow telepaths.

All three of them were in their uniforms even though they had been in the hotel for about four hours. Point in fact, was that they had determined that they would appear in Psi-Corps uniforms for the duration of the trip. It would serve to remind the blips where their allegiance should be and that no matter where they were the corps would always find them and protected them even if they didn't know that they needed it. Human telepaths were apart from mundane and it was time for the runaways to be reminded of that fact. Too bad the Humans of Federation Earth were so behind in those essential lessons, but it would only be a matter of time before they came to realize the truth for themselves.

"I take it that her lecture didn't go as planned?" asked Roberta.

"No, it didn't," Toni confirmed. "The Human telepaths there weren't as receptive as we originally believed they would be. They've been contaminated by their culture and their associations with alien telepaths. That's going to be a problem down the road, especially with the Betazoids. According to Arati, when she saw them, she was sure that they were Humans but they weren't."

"They look that close to Human?" asked Bester? "I knew they looked similar to us but I didn't know they were that close."

"The Betazoids aren't part of the Federation although there are talks going on between the two nations and the rumor is, is that they may well join," Roberta added.

"They may well be a problem that we'll have to deal with one way or another in the future," Toni said. "Roberta, I know that you've done some investigations on them but Arati stated that these aliens are a threat to the Human teeps on Fed Earth. They might well subvert our people here if we don't do something quickly if it's not already too late."

"How much of a threat are they to us?" asked Bester. "They're telepaths. The might have more in common with us than the mundanes."

"You might think that, but apparently they have had their telepathy longer than we and there's a whole world of them. They don't have any rules or regulations other than what they chose to at any given moment. They scan any time they feel like it. Yes," she grimaced. "I can see the Federation mundane becoming weary of Betazed very quickly. The Vulcans are one thing but a planet of telepaths could very easily take over the Federation. Then what happens to Alliance Earth when they come for us?" Irritated, she stood up and started pacing. "Plans within plans would be ruined and Earth would become wearier of us than they already are. We're not ready, yet."

"Yes," Bester said, "that would be a problem. You're suggesting that the Betazoids could influence these children and then send them back as moles to spy on us. Attack us from within."

"This is what the leadership believes," she acknowledged. "It's a scenario that we don't need. That's why all of the refugees, mundane and teep alike, have to be returned home. We have to stop this now. No more blips or even mundane should be allowed to come here. I don't care about the mundanes as much but Corps is mother and father and we can't have blips stealing ships trying to come here. The political and long-term damage to the corps would be catastrophic. When we see them tomorrow, we will make them return home, no matter what. We won't allow these people to keep them. They're family."

"We still have the Federation rules to worry about."

"This isn't a Federation world," Toni countered. "It's an independent colony with their own rules. If we convince the leadership then we get our family members back. I can't see the colonists wanting telepathic refugees walking among them. Their high-minded values are one thing, but they're just like the mundanes at home. I'll just appeal their natural fears and let nature take its course."

The three people, two women and man, who entered the hotel, were immediately noticed by the senator's group. What had been noticeable by the trio was the way the entered and instantly started searching the crowds. All of them were business-like in appearance and there was an air of not tenseness, but apprehension surrounding them. It wasn't hostility as much as a preparation of war.

Thank God for the scotch.

Three pairs of eyes locked onto him. David sighed, put on his best political demeanor and headed towards the guests. The Indian woman he judged to be just barely younger than his son, unhesitatingly walked towards him and with a strength that surprised him, vigorously shook his hand, pumping it like it was a jack hammer. Her gray eyes stared into his as if searching to understand the nature of his soul. He found himself looking back into her eyes and thinking the same thing.

"Hello, Senator Sheridan?" she asked.

He nodded. "Yes," he confirmed. "And this is my son Captain John Sheridan and Captain Jeffery Sinclair," he said as he pointed them out to her and her associates.

Her look of suspicion faded somewhat after a second. "Hello, I'm Captain Deborah Salti and this is my former first officer Allen Ranonsky. And this is Gregory Wolfman, the president of the Earth Alliance farmer's association of Archanis IV representing the colonists of the former Eighth colony." She paused for a second. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to approach you like this, so soon. But, I – we, all of us have been anticipating this visit for a long time." She looked at him. "Senator, we're not going to be forced back."

"Captain, please call me David." She nodded. "I'm not the enemy here."

"And please call me Deborah," she said. "I know that, but we've heard rumors since Earth Alliance representatives have arrived." She smirked apolitically. "News travels fast around these parts."

"I can see that." And he did. Besides him, John and Jeffery were stone faced. No help coming from there for the time being. "Can we talk over dinner? There's a lot to discuss and we might as well do it while we eat."

"Since Earth Alliance is paying for it, why not?"

"…We were on the _Springfield_ for thirty nine days," she said. Deborah had stopped eating for a second as the memories flooded back. "The Minbari had destroyed the colony habitat and the small domed colony, wiped out all of the civilian transports and military ships except my ship the _Springfield, Rutledge_, and _Dandridge. _We jumped to hyperspace and still the Minbari followed us. That's when we were pulled into the hyperspace passageway. You don't know what it was like," she whispered. "We were pulled along, with no control for twenty-seven days. I thought sure that we'd we lost in there forever. It may have been better for us if we were because the Minbari were still behind us, just within sensor detection range. We couldn't stop, we couldn't turn. We couldn't fight back. After twenty-five days, my ship was starting to break down. Life support wasn't designed to handle the number of passengers we had for so long. Food was dwindling; the water recycling system was breaking down. People were getting sick. Long term weightlessness syndrome was starting to affect many of the people. We were cramped and scared, David. We lost the _Dandridge_ in hyperspace before we hit the passageway. Something must have blown, maybe an engine. We never knew." She was quiet again for a moment as she relieved those memories. Allen grabbed her hand gently as struggled to keep from shaking. David recognized signs of post traumatic stress syndrome as did John and Jeffery when he saw it. He could only imagine what the woman and her crew had been through during those terrible days. "As captain," she continued, "it was my responsibility to try and keep my passengers, my crew and my ship safe, but we didn't know where we were. We didn't have the slightest inkling of how lost we were, only that the Minbari were still coming."

Allen stepped in and picked up the conversation. The way he did it brokered no argument from Deborah, his protectiveness of her shining for all to see. "Those were bad times, Senator. In the while in the passageway, the only think we could do was to go with the tide. We had shut down the thrusters because they were useless and we needed to conserve fuel as much as we could until the time we needed it, if at all. Sensors tracked nothing, but a sort of reddish tunnel just barely visible to the naked eye. Like I said sensors didn't see anything at all." He looked around, staring at the senator and Earthforce officers. "But around day nineteen, some of the passengers started seeing things. We thought that there was something, some type of new hyperspace effect or condition starting to go around at first. One kid thought she saw a three ships outside, half visible, pass us." His voice lowered significantly as he looked at the three men. "She described a Federation starship. I wish I had that girl's memory," he said. "She was able to draw all three of them from just a few seconds of sight before they faded away. One was a Starfleet ship, the other was Klingon and the third was a Minbari heavy warship. She drew this in detail, took her two days and showed it to Thomas Norton, our second officer. He would have dismissed it if it hadn't been for the Minbari warship image. That shocked him. It was definitely a Minbari warship. We know them as _Sharlins_ now. But it was different and so were the Federation and Klingon ships. They looked bigger and more advanced. Anyway, we had to be careful and kept it quiet. We were already at the edge and didn't want a panic on our hands. We discovered that another crew member had seen them too but hadn't said anything until almost a week later when we had encountered Starfleet. Remember we never knew what Fleet and Klingon ships looked like, never even imagined something like them."

David and John each turned stone-faced mirroring each other. Jeffery paled as he listened remembering his trip though the passageway.

"It's impossible," John whispered.

"I agree," said his father. "But they did see them. It's the same thing."

"But it was a different passageway and a different time. It can't be the same."

"What are you mumbling about?" asked Deborah not pleased at being left out but at the same time dreading the answer.

Allen and Gregory perked up even more waiting for an explanation. David nodded to John.

"What we think your passenger and crewmen saw was something that we encountered in our trip here," he said. "We encountered those ships in the transit-way. But the problem is that we were in a different one and that happened a bit more than a year after you arrived here."

"Wait, there's more than one?"Gregory asked.

David nodded. "At least two, maybe three that we are aware of." His eyes narrowed. "Something's going on. The time difference is too great and both we and Starfleet believe that someone or some-thing is allowing us to see and talk to those ships among other things."

"Wait, wait, wait!" Allen all but screamed. "They're real? You talked to those ships?"

"Yes," confirmed Jeffery, who was still somewhat shaken by his experience. "I'll just say that some higher power is manipulating our meeting with the Federation and the others."

"I knew you weren't going to give us details," Deborah grumbled.

"Sorry," said the senator apologetically. "But as I think about it, it seems that there are forces out there that wanted us to meet."

"Which gets us back to our discussion," Allen said. Interestingly, the African American man had never removed his hand from his captains' and she had made no effort to make him do so. "The passageway ended as quickly as it had begun and the instant it did, we powered up the jump engines and the two of us transitioned into normal space. Of course we had no idea of where we were. There were no planetary systems within sensor range but we had to run. We knew that the Minbari were still behind us. The rest is history."

"History still in the making," Gregory added. "We were convinced we were going to die. Imagine our surprise when we found out we were going to live. We came here and nothing's been the same since."

"But this isn't your home," David said. "The war is ending and we will need able bodied individual back to rebuild. We need you and the colonists to return so we can began to rebuild again. We're stronger with you than without."

"With all due respect, Senator, you have lost your mind if you think we're going back," Gregory replied. "There may be a few of us who might answer your call but the far majority of us and that's two thousand three hundred of us plus a few newborns have no intentions of going back."

"Earth Alliance with the assistance of our allies is developing the capability of protecting all of our colonies. You never need to fear being abandoned or ignored again."

"That's not the point!" snapped Gregory. A gentle touch by Deborah and the big blond calmed down. "There's no such thing as independence at Earth Alliance. That's why my family and I decided to leave Earth in the first place."

"That's not true," Allen countered. "Earth had its problems but it wasn't as bad as you're making it."

"Yeah," he said slowly. After a moment: "maybe I'm exaggerating a bit. But I had to admit that my eyes were opened when I made it to the colony." He shook his head. "I wanted to be a part of something new. Being out in space, on a new world, it was a dream. Earth Alliance turned that dream into ashes," he told them sourly. "We didn't have any rights at all. The corporations controlled everything: the air, life support, food, everything. The corporations were bleeding us dry and while we sweated our lives away trying to terraform. EA did nothing about it, barely acknowledge that we existed. But," he added, "they didn't forget to collect taxes."

"You're accusing all of EarthGov of not caring for you colonies," the senator snapped defensively. "That's not true. We did everything we could, under the circumstances to make sure all of our colonies were safe and secured."

"I understand that," Gregory said. "I know how dangerous the Minbari were, however that doesn't negate the fact that every colony with an orbital habitat, or in domes, had to pay for our oxygen, then pay taxes on that, pay for our food – and I'm sick of algae by the way – then the three extra taxes that we had to pay on top of the sky high prices for the food in the first place. The colonists had to sign contracts not to have children while we were trying to terraform the planet and we understood that, but the tax to renew said contract every year was unfair. Then those who could have children were charged so much that they almost went into dept."

"I agree," David answered. "There are several senators and legislators throughout EarthGov that are trying to change those rules. But you are right; we're trying to slow the excesses of the corporations down. But space travel and existence costs money and the corporations are in the business of making money and are spreading it around liberally to maintain their positions. You know the rest. I think we're succeeding however it's going to take time and effort on both EarthGov's and the colonies to make those necessary changes. That won't happen if people like you leave us. We're stronger with you than without. It's a cliché, I know but it's nevertheless true. "

"My generation will be dead and gone before you're able to make an effective change, senator. I've been here for what…a year and a half? I can speak for the far majority of us that came here in saying we don't want and are not going back."

David knew that it wasn't going well. Gregory was apparently adamant in his position and he could understand why. "Earth Alliance needs you and your expertise especially now that you've had hands-on experience living on a new world using techniques and technologies we've only dreamed about less than two years ago. Think about it, with everything you've learned, you'd be, frankly, invaluable. We need those very things you're seeing and doing right now."

"Yes, I think we'd be important to Earth Alliance, right up until the corporations get their hands on us and squeeze us dry trying to develop patents. Look at Mars. That's the first most important colony you have." David noticed that the man hadn't said '_we'_ but '_you'_, a further indication of the growing distancing between the refugees and the Earth Alliance. "The Marsies are treated like second step children. They can barely make a living between the lack of political freedoms and the corporations bleeding them dry. And then," he added, "look at Mars here. Big difference," he said slowly.

"We can do the same thing at home, given a bit of time. The Federation influences have been felt and we can see the future of what's coming. The Minbari war is weeks away from being over and then the EA will explode like the second coming with the new technologies coming from the Federation and their allies."

Gregory was shaking his head now, as was Allen. Deborah remained silent. Technologies may be available but EarthGov is a long way from changing," he countered. "We saw Dr. Khali and we listened to what he said, very carefully. I think he represents many of EarthGov's views."

"With respect, senator," said Allen. "We can all see the handwriting on the wall. When the war is over, EarthGov is going to have a hernia trying to compete with the Federation. They're already jealous, and we've seen some of the hostilities broadcasted by ISN."

"Wait, you get ISN all the way here?"

"Of course, "Allen said. "The transit way sends the signals clear as day," he frowned. "And that's another strange thing. We're getting ISN less than three days after transmission. It shouldn't be possible but it is. Something is boosting the power of the reception faster than possible even in subspace."

"Then you have an idea what's happening. You and your people could go a long way in quelling some of their fears."

"It's not fear, sir. It's jealously. Most of us have decided not to go back. This colony isn't a Federation colony. It associates with the Federation but is an independent colony with the rights to govern ourselves," he pointed out, smiling viciously as David and the others got his inferred message. "Most of us have settled here, made friends with the neighbors, made friends with a few rocks, or should I say, rocklings, or maybe rockettes," and here he smiled. "We have our own land and homes, and the pregnancy rate has sky-rocketed." He looked at David. "We have a couple of sixty year old women having babies! The life expectancy here is one hundred thirty with fertility to our mid-sixties. That's how much more advanced it is here. Granted, it's not perfect but it's like heaven compared to where we came from and," he continued, "how we got here in the first place. We don't even g mind the teeps as much." He smirked, as did Allen. "When you have aliens like the Tellerites as neighbors, you kind of change your perspectives a bit about people. I don't like people looking into my mind, but I not that overly worried about it. They have to live, too."

"Yes, I know that it's tempting," David said, "but does everyone agree with you?"

"Most people do," Deborah said. "Allen is joining Starfleet and so are a few others."

"But, he can't," blurted David. He turned to Allen. "You're an Earth Alliance citizen. The Federation has no right to induct you."

Allen sighed. This would have come up sooner or later and it wasn't just him but several others were contemplating the same thing. "I'm not Earthforce, I am not deserting. This is not a Federation colony per se. They don't have to submit to Earth Alliance demands and that's what they are! The last time I checked I was part of an Earth Alliance that had rights, with freedom to do what we want within the rules set down by the laws of our government. I never said that we couldn't leave Earth Alliance if we wanted to. Up until recently, there was no need to exercise that choice. But now…"

"What about the soldiers?" John asked. There was a dark undercurrent to his voice. "Do they feel the same way?"

"Well, from what I've heard, most of them want to get back into the war and go home, now that they have a chance to be able to fight back effectively," Gregory answered. "Some of them were really badly injured. The survivors, some of them, well won't be useful in the war – that's almost over, by the way. A few of them will be more than glad to go home and get their families and come back when everything clams down. A few have made tentative lives here knowing that they would have to go back. But when we get back tonight, I'm going to tell them that coming back here may be harder the second time than it was the first."

"I am trying to convince you to return home, not force you," countered the senator, although it 'did' sound like it. It was good that Lupinsky was here. Let him deal with the soldiers, he thought.

"Glad to hear it," intoned Gregory. "However," he continued slowly, "some of our government officials won't be as opened-minded. And what about the teeps? Do they even have a choice?" He allowed that question to hang for a moment before he continued. "Things are changing. All of us here know that. The peace to come may be worse than the war."

Yes, David thought glumly. They were probably more right than they knew. He definitely wasn't looking forward to the town meeting tomorrow.

The next afternoon, it turned out that less than fifteen percent of the over three thousand plus refuges, minus the Earthforce survivors who had no intentions of abandoning their commitments to Earth Alliance would be convinced by the senator and others to return. There were those who couldn't make the adjustment at the colony. The changes were too radical, to different from what they were used to and were eager to return. But they were in the minority. True to Gregory's pronouncements, to the chagrin of some of the Earth Alliance delegates, most had decided to stay and make a life already being established on Archanis IV. General Lupinsky had little difficulty with the healthier members of Earthforce and securing transportation from Starfleet to get them home wouldn't be a problem.

That wouldn't be the end, but only the beginning.

_**MSI Hall, New Trent province, sixty kilometers from Ashburn**_

"Ladies and gentlemen, please," said Governor James L. Peterman, "the conditions of this meeting were made clear. The delegation doesn't feel comfortable meeting with you without representation from the Federation and Ashburn being present." He was surprised at the almost open hostility by Earth Alliance specialist Toni Williams. The others weren't nearly as hostile, merely somewhat aloft but he could almost understand that. Being Earth telepaths, he could see how they would have a need to distance themselves from others in order to keep their own peace of mind so to speak. However there was another matter had given him some concern over this entire meeting.

His talks with the young people from Earth Alliance Earth had disturbed him on a visceral level. Anupe Singh the designated speaker for the fleeing refugee telepaths had painted a picture of what he considered a nightmare society. She had spoken of forced marriages, intentional isolation from 'normal' people, forced drug use for those choosing not to join the Psi-Corps organization, being second class citizens in a free society. It had sounded like flights of fancy and even exaggeration but it disturbed him. Those thoughts were brushed aside when the few local telepathic colonists had confirmed the truth.

Once more, the governor had thanked whatever powers were looking over them by making his particular colony multi-species. It was an experiment that would be studied over the generations, but in the here and now, so far he had judged it a success. Six different sentient species living on one planet and war hadn't broken out yet. He had been most worried about the Tellerites and their rather aggressive attitudes but they had turned out okay. The Vulcan and Andorian settlers got along for the most part – and it helped that the Vulcans preferred the desert regions while the Andorians congregated near the arctic poles, but still – those people had gotten along better than the Human folks initially had. The telepathic refugees and Earth Alliance colonists were initial very weary and yes he could say it, afraid of one another. This probably would have continued if it hadn't been for the interaction with so many other species, and talks giving them a new perspective. That exposure was having positive results but all of the fear and anger had just rematerialized in the form of the people from their homes.

"We understand your concerns, governor, but this is Psi-Corps business and our responsibility. As I've said before, these refugees are dangerous. They hijacked a spaceship, endangering the crew and themselves while breaking Earth Alliance rules and regulations. They have no controls protecting you and your people and themselves from one another. They have no families here and if they had no respect for the law at home, then they will not have any respect for your laws either. The children were effectively kidnapped by Anupe, Louis and the other adults. They need to be returned home to their families and people who will care for them, despite their rebellious and dangerous actions. They have no respect for the rules of Earth. How will they have any at this place?"

"I don't agree with your assessment of the situation," Peterman said. "But I will allow you to speak to them under supervision of the Fed representatives and my people. Whatever they decide, I will abide by their decision."

"You have no idea what they can to you and your people, especially Louie or Louis as you call him," Toni insisted. "We are his family and we can do that. He's more dangerous than you know. Around him no one with have any privacy. He needs to be contained. I have the full weight of Earth Alliance behind me on this matter. They need to be returned to their rightful home. They are dangerous."

"I've heard that he has an equally negative view of Psi-Corps," James said dryly. "Yes, I've talked to him. When your meeting is over, I and my council will look at the arguments on both sides and then I will make by decision. But be warned, Miss Williams, they've done nothing wrong here on this colony. They have made friends here and we are not under the jurisdiction of the Federation. What they've told me and from what I've seen from your ISN has not filled me with confidence so the burden of proof will be on you to make your case against these children. Under those circumstances, if they wish to stay, I will not hesitate to allow them to do so."

"Then I hope that you will make an informed and wise decision," Toni said, "one that you won't regret in the future."

"Excuse me? Was that a threat?" the governor asked. There was a dangerous glint in his eye and telepath or not, Toni recognized it for what it was.

"Not at all, Governor Peterman," Toni quickly answered. "My concern is for the safety of the colonists here. I met no disrespect, implied or otherwise."

"I'm glad to hear it." Peterman was smiling now, as if the implication had never happened.

Toni mentally chastised herself. It wasn't her intention to antagonize this mundane on his home turf. However this mission would be more difficult than even she had anticipated it would be. The blips here were just the tip of the iceberg. If they were successful then hundreds, maybe thousands of blips and potentials could conceivably run to the Federation and their allies, effectively bleeding Psi-Corps of their best and brightest of their future. It wasn't only the teeps but the mundanes as well that would suffer. After the war, she could see hundreds if not thousands rushing to this new Promised Land. Arati's communiqué had already hinted as such.

Her additional meetings with the Human telepaths of Fed Earth and their alien associates hadn't gone well. They were too indoctrinated with Federation ideals and had no understanding of family. Earth Alliance telepaths were family if nothing else and only by remaining within the family could they survive to grow stronger. This place was too dangerous with its multitude of alien telepaths interfering at any given second. Any thoughts of converting the few Human telepaths of the Federation and bringing them into the Psi-Corps would be an exercise in futility despite what the Office of Home Affairs thought. In fact, it might well be dangerous in the long run. This was only her opinion, but one she would stress when she got home. These people mixed with aliens too freely to understand what it meant to be a truly Human telepath. That knowledge was rapidly being lost for them.

By Psi-Corps own rules, she couldn't directly scan the Humans or aliens around here without their permission, but she didn't need to, to see the hostility of the governor. She didn't know where she went wrong but it had to be something she said that got him so hostile against her request. She wished she could scan him to find out what she had said that had angered him so.

A half hour later, everyone had finally reached the hall for the conference. Three representatives of the blip hijackers had taken their seats opposite of their Earth Alliance counterparts. The first and one sitting closest and across from her was Anupe Singh, also from India. There was a higher average number of telepaths from India, most likely because of the huge numbers. Arati was an example of that. Next was Louie Beckmann, sitting down and smirking at Bester and Roberta who in turn was frowning at the young man. Lastly was nineteen year old Theresa Copella, a blip strong enough and smart enough to evade Psi-Corps pursuit for years. All three were resourceful, but it was Louie that she and the Psi-cops considered a true threat.

'_You could have gone so far,'_ transmitted Toni to him. _'Look at you now, hiding in a foreign land pretending to live a 'normal' life. You've lost everything.'_

Louie frowned._ 'I had no intentions of becoming what you wanted me to become, following your rules like some type of servant for the greater good. You're a fool, Toni. You have no idea what our glorious leader have planned.'_

'_They are doing what is best for Psi-Corps," _she countered._ 'That's all I need to know.' _

'_We're here to take you back,' _sentBester_. 'You should have known that there's no place where you can run and hide that we couldn't find you - traitor.'_

'_Traitor? Because I didn't want to be a cop like you, hunting down people who didn't want to join the 'extended family' or be drugged into a stupor for the rest of their lives because they could read minds? I was there, remember? What you couldn't control you destroyed in the name of the almighty family values.'_

'_That's not true. There are rules that needed to be obeyed. You could have worked within the system to change it instead of becoming a blip, running until the time we would find you.'_

'_Change from within?' _He smiled._ 'Keep believing that, all of you. Working to get teeps away from you and your influence is the best thing that I could have done.' _

'_You disobeyed the rules and you'll be punished,' _Bester transmitted.

'_You were always a true believer, weren't you Bester? Going to become one of Psi-Corps glorious leaders one day?'_

'_Enough.'_

"I believe we all know each other,' Toni dryly announced. "So there's no need for further introductions. "Anupe Singh, Theresa Copella, Louis Beckmann. You've been charged with kidnapping and hijacking. Because of these charges we are here to return with you to Earth Alliance where you will be brought to justice for your crimes."

Several of the Federation and local officials looked at one another for an instant but said nothing.

"May I speak?" Anupe asked. The Archanis official Kurt Conwell nodded. "We came to the Federation seeking asylum from the oppressive rules and regulations of Psi-Corps. Forced marriages, being forced to always wear gloves in the presence of normal Humans, being taken from our homes, and generally remain nothing more than second-class citizens on Earth. That is Earth Alliance's Psi-Corps."

"You hijacked a ship, marooned the crew. Ran though a Minbari blockade in hyperspace with innocent children onboard to get to unknown territory, was almost destroyed by a Federation starship possibly placing your blood on their hands," Toni said. "Granting asylum was ill-advised for such criminals and their victims."

"We were running with the children to keep them from falling into your hands," Louie said matter-of-factly. "These teenagers didn't want to leave their homes or take telepathic dampening drugs as the law demands, laws that Psi-Corps has encouraged at every turn. They weren't kidnapped as you keep alleging; they were running to get away from you! Our explanations were clear and truthful as acknowledged by Captain Madge Sinclair. Under her investigation and authority, she believed that our request for asylum was a legitimate concern. When we arrived here, the officials here also recognized our claims and allowed us asylum here."

"You influenced them with lies and your abilities," Toni snarled.

"Not true," Anupe said. "The Federation has telepaths and the technology to discover if we were lying or not. They believed us. The fact that they agreed with us gives legitimacy to our cause. And, now he was smiling. "Do you think we could have stolen a ship that large without Earthforce being aware of it even during a time of war?"

Toni's intake was sharp as she followed his logic. He and the others had had help. The ship hadn't been hijacked or stolen. It had either been 'donated' or voluntarily borrowed specifically for Louie and the blips and that revelation worried her. The underground was far more extensive than they first thought. It would have to be rooted out and crushed as soon as possible. Louie's casual mention of them was an indication that they were becoming strong enough to come out into the open. There was an involuntary flash of hatred. The federation presence did all of this.

"And how well will that action be taken by the Federation, the same people you're trying to ingratiate yourselves to?" asked the irritating telepath guessing, instead of reading what Toni had to be thinking about. "If you do this, you'll be proving to them the worst of Psi-Corps. Don't think you'll be able to hide it. It'll come out no matter what you do and just to let you know, the underground is larger than you've assumed." The cat was out of the bag now and there was no use hiding the fact.

"Long before the formation of Psi-Corps there have been those whom have tried to hurt us, kill us, abuse us, subvert us for their own uses. We needed to protect ourselves and Earth Alliance agreed. We formed Psi-Corps out of necessity. It means survival for Humans telepaths everywhere," and here she stressed the word 'everywhere'. That's why we're more than just an organization to protect telepaths. We're family. Telepaths, Human telepaths," she corrected, "are the prop – responsibility of Psi-Corps and Earth Alliance and the Federation will respect our rules and regulations."

"You almost said 'property', didn't you?" accused Anupe. "We are people, not Psi-Corps property!"

"No, you're not. You're family," Toni said, pointedly ignoring the looks of astonishment and embarrassment shown by both Bester and Yang. "We are not the enemy. We are the means for the survival of a new species of Human. As you know, all new species are dangerous to those they will eventually replace. Non-teep Humans are afraid of us not because we we're dangerous, but because we're a threat to you. We mean no harm but we are young and threatened with extinction by the people who produced us."

"Lady, you're nuts," pronounced Louie.

"No," Toni huffed. She stood up. "I merely understand the truth of the situation. The political damage is done, ladies and gentlemen," she said addressing the officials listening intently at the meltdown in progress. "Earth Alliance and the Federation are rushing headlong towards a precipice. The war is almost over and already we're beginning to suffer schisms between our two peoples. The Federation, by letting these criminals, and that's what they are, thumb their noses at the duly established laws of Earth Alliance, you will be condoning their actions. No matter how altruistic it may seem, these Earth Alliance citizens had flaunted the law, taken under-aged children away from their families fragrantly violating dozens of laws and have quite possibly damaged these children by taking them away from the only institution that can help them in their long-term development. And," Toni continued, "if you allow them to remain, this will be only the beginning. Thousands of people will illegally flock to the Alpha quadrant, causing strains between families and our two governments that no one can accurately predict. I request that you stop this leak now before more damage is done. Return these people to their rightful homes and families. This goes for the non-telepath refugees, too. They survived the Minbari but they need to be returned home where they belong. The Federation is already strong and getting stronger. We, on the other hand are recovering from a war we were losing. With your help we have survived and we know our enemies can't hurt us anymore, but we are still weak and incidents like this can only make our people weaker. I therefore implore you to return these people to their rightful places so that they can be properly cared for by people who love them and can provide the care and training they so desperately need. I also ask that those responsible are returned so that they can be tried for their crimes." She sat down.

Now Anupe stood up. "Since she addressed you in such a manner, I feel that I should do the same. This Psi-Corps representative speaks about family, about being protected and cared for, so you must ask yourselves the question, 'why did we run in the first place if Psi-Corps is such a beneficial, loving family-oriented organization it claims itself to be'? Why were we so desperate to get away from Psi-Corps that we acquired a ship to travel over seventy thousand light years through unknown and hostile territory just on the chance that we might a place where we could be free just to live out normal lives? I am not saying that Earth Alliance isn't a democracy. There are many good things that we've tried to achieve and I will admit that the government has excelled in fairness to its citizenry –as a whole. However as the Psi-Corps representative has said, all things are not fair. Because of an accident of genetics we are feared, hounded and discriminated against, treated like second class citizens. Whether we are man's next step in evolution as Toni and the others are implying or just a variation of Humanity that occurs more commonly these days, we don't know. What we do know is that exploitation can occur not just by regular Humans or as Psi-Corps calls you, 'mundanes'," and here she stopped for a moment savoring the glacial stares coming from both Psi-cops and their leader, "but by fellow telepaths. What you may know is that children who have the gift develop the traits around puberty. Children with family members who are telepaths are especially watched and all children in Earth Alliance are required to take tests to determine if they are telepaths at the age of fourteen. Those that test positive are either removed from their families either at their requests, by the 'suggestion' of Psi-Corps and the government or they are forced to take telepathic inhibitory drugs to suppress what is to us a natural sense. These drugs are debilitating, much like anti-depressive drugs with the same negative side effects. The person who take the drugs for the rest of their lives, are never the same afterwards and that alone cause's fear on both sides and is a great intimidating force among our people. Better to join 'family' than to become a burned out drug users with a higher than average suicide rate. Those that choose Psi-Corps are 'indoctrinated' into the family and eventually their real family becomes irreverent. When they're old enough then they are matched with someone in order to produce a stronger teep, I'm sorry, a telepathic trait. They have no choice in the matter, either. It doesn't matter how strong or weak the trait, they are conscripted into Psi-Corps or forced to take drugs."

"You make us sound like some type of cult," hissed Toni. "That's not true!"

"If it quacks like a duck… I don't know what else to call it!" Anupe hissed back. "Some of us choose a third alternative," she continued, "we run. Sometimes the children are sent with people who try to protect them from the mercies of Psi-Corps and our own government. That's what happened to myself and a few others; hiding on one of the smaller colonies until Psi-Corps came looking." She smiled sadly. "That was our life. We were perceived as threats and that was enough to condemn us."

"You were never condemned, merely misguided by people who didn't have your best interests at heart," countered Toni. "The Federation may seem like a dream to you but they have rules designed to keep both themselves and others safe from negative cultural influences. It is called the Prime Directive which is and I quote here is also known as General Order One, 'prohibits Starfleet personnel and spacecraft from interfering in the normal development of any society and mandates that any Starfleet vessel or crew member is expendable to prevent a violation of this rule'. Your presence here interferes with the normal development of Earth Alliance society and by their own laws you must be returned or they face the consequences of said law that they are obligated to enforce. And you're and enhanced Human not part of the Federation. They have rules against that as well. Another reason why you will have to come back," she finished.

"Not correct, Specialists Williams," Lieutenant Commander Joanna Watley, part of the Starfleet delegation sent to observe the hearings, said. If looks could kill the look that Toni sent her way would have burned her alive. Joanna didn't notice or did care, either way, she continued. Your statement about Starfleet is valid, but the Federation itself is not obligated to follow the rules of Starfleet's Prime Directive although we are encouraged to always be mindful of the Directive. Therefore, you can't use the Prime Directive as an example. The Federation will not turn these people over to you because of your misinterpretation of that law. Furthermore, this is an independent colony in association with the Federation. They have their own laws, rules, and regulations independent of the Federation. And you alluded to rules against genetic manipulation of Humans on Earth. As I understand it, there is no direct evidence of any form of genetic engineering involving telepaths and you aren't from our Earth, therefore you are not subject to the rules involving genetic engineering as related to Federation Earth. Yes, it is a sore point with us, but your particular situation would not be part of that mandate. For example, Human telepaths on our Earth are not under the jurisdiction of the genetic enhancement rules.

"Thank you for that clarification," Toni said icily.

The meeting continued for another three hours.

Later that evening at the Archanis Hills hotel, Alfred and Roberts still in full uniform, sat at the bar nursing drinks. Most people ignored them although a few looked at the curiously. Wearing gloves at the bar was wasn't a usual thing to see. Not knowing what it meant was another sore point for both telepaths.

"That was a disaster. If I hear the word Federation again tonight, I think I will throw up," Bester grumbled. "At least the Senator got a few of the mundane to come back." He took a sip as a comfortable silence settled between them of a few moments. "I bet this sets us back years. Arati should have been here instead."

Robert was shaking her head slowly. "She had just as much trouble on that Earth as we did here. These people and their attitudes are much too different than what we're used to. Our initial plans to bring in the Earther teeps into the family are useless. That difference is further than I originally anticipated. From what Arati said, the telepaths here should probably be prevented from coming to Earth Alliance Earth. They're just as bad as everyone else around here. Especially with their attitudes and alien influences,"

"Not to mention their breeding with alien races."

"I really don't see that as a real disadvantage, Roberta," said Alfred after a few seconds. "If it improves the gene pool and increases the genetic traits without damaging us, I don't really have a problem with that. Those Betazoids look so close to Human it's hard to believe otherwise. What I do have a problem with is how to control things if that were to occur. They may look like us but they are not Human and I could see us being overwhelmed by their influences."

"That's the point," Roberta said. "We can't encourage those aliens to come to Earth Alliance specifically Psi-Corps. They would subvert us and our cause."

"They are an unknown."

"Exactly, one we don't want and don't need right now. I can foresee so many problems it's not even funny. Look at this place. It's a new war just starting."

Bester simply nodded. "Toni's approach to this meeting caused us to lose. Too many secrets came out and I'm sure Starfleet is wary of us now."

"This was a glorious failure," Roberta whispered. Telepathically see added to her comment. _'Too bad we couldn't just sanction them.' _

"_Yes, too bad. I see a change in policy concerning runaways trying to get here.'_

'_For the best.'_

'_Yes, for the best.' _

_Anupe Singh Theresa Copella= Teenager_

_Most of the thirty-nine people were children. Only one other, Louie, was older than she rating p12_ PsiCorps specialist Toni Williams, Psicop Alfred Bester and six Federation personnel _Roberta Yang_

_d Officer Yoriko Taganawa Earth Force survivor from the Farlin_

_total of three thousand five hundred fifty-two people in both fleeing vessels. A hyperion was destroyed evac pods were destroyed only four survivors on The Farlin Earth Alliance vessel Springfield, a civilian transport_

_Amistad, Amistad_

_Debra Salti, Thomas Norton, and Yoriko Taganawa_

_Captain John Sheridan and Captain Jeffery Sinclair_

_Telepath escapees: Amistad, Amistad originally called the Hands of Fate and changed when they hit the Alpha quadrant. Twenty nine year old Anupe Singh eldest Theresa Copella= TeenagerMost of the thirty-nine people were children. Only one other, Louie, was older than she rating p12 Archanis IV. That's where most of the people from the Springfield are settled."Thirty-three of war. So far, I have not said what colony the colonist, refugees and telepaths are on. Four telepaths Alfred Bester and his co-worker Roberta Yang. Psi cops Arati Metha Psicorps # 1 Toni Williams psicorp # 2 "I'm Madgaline Sinclair, Captain of the Saratoga."_


End file.
